


Smoke

by Killjoy785



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Author’s apparent sadistic view on Stefano’s past, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, F/M, Flashbacks, Forced oral object insertion, Frottage, Implied PAST prostitution/abusive relationships, Implied childhood mental/emotional abuse, Implied past JoSeb, Kissing, M/M, Major character alteration, Major storyline alteration, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Sexual Content, Smut, Stabbing, Stefano is sane (so far anyway), Survival Horror, Violence, War flashbacks, god the ANGST, more mind fuckery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-03-03 20:52:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 57,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13349301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killjoy785/pseuds/Killjoy785
Summary: My first stab (ha ha) at The Evil Within 2 fanfiction. Stefano Valentini finds himself in a nightmare in his search for answers following his friend’s murder. Will he survive and find the truth or let the horrors consume and warp him? Some have chosen the latter. This has a very Silent Hill vibe. And sane-Stefano is weird enough as it is.





	1. Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stefano Valentini is greeted by the very overly-friendly residents of Union and meets two of their model citizens. In other words RUN, STEFANO, RUN.

“I never told you what I saw in the dark. I set fire to the person I was.”

—“Smoke Rings” by Frank Iero and the Cellabration

He grasped the crumbling wall, neglecting his manicured finger nails as they scraped against it. For desperation’s sake he pretty much threw himself behind the rotting wood of some damaged crates. He could hear them coming closer by the intensity of the shrieks and inhuman howls and groans he was sure would feature in any future nightmare if he ever got a chance to sleep again. If he ever could sleep again.

Sweat and filth clung to him and normally correcting that would be a top priority to Stefano Valentini but sadly it had to wait. He whipped his face towards his pursuers, his dark hair forming a curtain over the right side of his face, obscuring a closed and useless eye and a pattern of still-sensitive scar tissue. With his good eye he peered through the boards. 

Shuffling and shambling figures made their unsteady way past his refuge of a small alcove. However, his sigh of relief cut short as one paused and then jerked its upper body towards the direction of his sanctuary. 

Damnit, not one of those, he moaned silently.

It appeared to be female, almost uniformly pale and sickly looking. It moved very slowly and that was what was so terrifying because he knew very well it could overtake him in chase if it wanted. One too many close calls. Its hearing must have been its strength because it twitched its head in his direction at his shaky intake of breath.

Go away, find something else to eat, he urged it silently, teeth gritting as it stepped closer and closer. 

Unsteadily he pressed his palms against the ground, readying himself for another spirited chase when his fingers brushed the smooth coolness of a bottle. He picked it up with excruciating caution, aiming for the far side of the room and holding his breath until the crash and tinkle of glass sounded far away from him.

The thing came to life, seeming to sob and shriek at the same time, then shambled towards the direction of the noise.

He made a fist in triumph as the inhuman groaning grew some distance, then nearly groaned himself in disappointment as he heard the others and their uneven steps approach, wanting to know what the commotion was.

“Fuck”, his accent harshened the last consonant in his near-silent hiss. 

But not silent enough.

One of the Lost swiveled its head towards him and let out a chilling, congested cackle. With wild swings if its arms it barreled towards him, striking at the already soft wooden boards and showering Stefano with rotted splinters and god knows what else.

He dodged as the thing lunged at him, its smell making his stomach turn and he scrambled away. This of course alerted the others and the horde set him in their sights. They ran at him with surprising speed for dead things.

But this world did not listen to normal logic where dead things usually stayed that way. No, this reality was doing everything in its power to completely rewrite everything he knew and understood about everything.

He bounded through the decrepit, humid halls, head turned slightly due to his single eye. Debris and corpses and damp rot lay about and he did his best to dance around them as the monsters gave chase. He spit a curse in his native Italian as he heard the rasping breaths close in on him. 

Breath?, he mused despite the situation, Does the damned thing need to breathe?? Do the lungs still work???

He swore he could feel the swipe of corpse fingers brush against his already ruined shirt. He’d abandoned his jacket a long time ago after a frantic stabbing of one of these monsters brought all sorts of disgusting fluid all over it. 

The memory gave him enough kick to speed up but he knew he would not last. His stamina had decreased slightly since his photography assignment with the army and even just a few years of no longer having to sprint for cover from an IED strike had made him perhaps a little soft. He could already feel a stitch sparking in his side, his breath starting to hitch in his throat.

And now his footing slipped as he rounded a corner. Failing to catch himself he went sprawling onto the filth on the floor. 

This was it. He cursed himself for having lost his knife in a previous mad dash for escape. He idly wondered if the walking corpse he had left it in was still wandering around with it sticking out of its neck.

Their horrid, blank faces were above him now. He glanced over his shoulder as he scrambled backwards on his palms and heels. Just darkness. Much like his predicament.

A large possibly male specimen struck the others out of the way and his gaping, stained teeth looked to be aiming right for Stefano’s neck. 

He flinched and raised his arms over his face in a feeble attempt to protect himself. In a way he was relieved but bitter, of course. 

All he had been through for his lost friend, his beloved Emily, all in vain to try finding justice for his late-muse. In her last days she had acted so strangely and had not been herself since being contacted by this mysterious religious organization—something he had a bit harshly told her was probably a cult of some kind. They had to have had something to do with her death. They at least had to know something. 

He had felt her loss like a missing limb. When he himself had lost his eye and sunk deep into depression it was she who was there to help him back into the light. With her lucrative modeling career and rising status she did not have to do such a thing. Others would have left Stefano to himself and his harmful thoughts and practices. But she had been there for him with her elegance and grace and warmth. It had been something past friendship, past anything.

And now he had failed her. Now he was to become nothing but a snack for the living dead. He waited for the impending pain.

It never came.

What did come was a loud squishing noise that made the bile rise in his throat. Warm guts sprayed over him, his splayed hands and the barrier of his raised arms catching most of the offense. 

“What...”

Another spill, another apparent miracle evisceration of these tireless abominations. He heard their remains spatter and drop like wet rags onto the floor.

Silence. No. Whispers? Dry, toneless words in a hushed voice. Stefano lowered his arms, dreading the sight of what could kill these things in mere seconds. His eye adjusted to a strange, soft glow, then widened in horror.

There was a...something...different from the creatures but from the same cloth obviously.

A woman. Or the statue-white upper torso of a woman wreathed in vivid white waves of a thick, ropy substance. White loops of cloth seemingly made of the same waved gently around her. And it was floating above one of the fallen monsters. The cursed creature was writhing in what he assumed was pain. The woman was whispering, hissing to it with the rictus of a grin. He could barely make out the words.

“...there in the fire they took her into the fire my Lily my Lily and he didn’t believe me so she burned in the fire and we just stopped it all stopped in the fire...”

The creature was bubbling beneath these cryptic words, its skin blistering as it howled. Stefano watched in sick fascination as the top layer of its rotted flesh melted and exposed bone, teeth, and yet it still made sound, a gurgling moan.

“My Lily my poor Lily and he didn’t listen so the fire I tried but the fire took her my poor poor Lily....”

Finally the thing was still with a final twitch of its now blackened jaw. There was a dark aura rising from the woman now like thick black smoke and Stefano’s heart punched in his chest as the woman lifted her face and fixed her gaze upon him.

He felt heat. An intense heat as though a fire surrounded him. He could feel sweat dripping down the side of his face, his hair beginning to stick to his skin. The walls. The walls were blistering and warping like the now dead—more dead...definitely dead—thing that lay in not much more than a stain burned into the floor.

“Oh god...my god...”

The woman smiled serenely at him and he could see a sort of white cloth plastered over where her eyes should have been. The strange substance undulating around her looked like wet, white plaster and it sizzled where it dripped. He jerked his leg back as it plopped near his shoe. The substance hissed and smoked on the floor.

Panic finally set in as she suddenly reached her hands towards him like a mother set to embrace a child. He scrambled backwards, slipping and hitting his elbow against the ground. One arm flung out as though with something as simple as that he could ward her away.

“No. No!”

The woman hummed a wordless tune at him in a sweet, gentle voice. He felt another blast of hell fire and it whipped at his clothes and his hair. 

He shut his eye, flinching away as the heat prickled his skin unbearably. 

“The fire the fire she’s in the fire with me.”

With a gale of almost girlish laughter he felt the heat subside. Startled he opened his eye once more just in time to see the woman’s features distort as the black smoke enveloped her and funneled away from him and into a figure staggering back before him.

It was a man, his stance bent backwards as the black smoke streamed into his face. Stefano could see it as though it were being sucked into the man’s mouth, nose, even into his eyes. And the man just took it, body jerking convulsively from the force, arms swaying by his sides.

Stefano didn’t wait to see what happened when the smoke cleared. Stumbling to his feet he ran, ignoring the howls of newly wakened dead and the tightening of his throat as he gasped in air.

“Lily...”

The voice floated from behind him. A deep gruff voice like a growl. 

“Don’t be scared, Lily. Don’t run away from me.”

He could feel the heat behind him again, inspiring him to pump his legs, his body running purely on instinct. He—

(—explosions. The screams. He sees the smoke blot out the sky and he forces himself to remain still. His camera catches the mayhem. He must let the world know. Must record the evidence. The ground shakes. The harsh barking of orders. A high whistling screams through the air and now he only knows to run—)

—didn’t know where he was going. He only knew to—

(—run and run but the gunfire deafens him. His eyes widen at the scene. At the firefight and the smoke and the smoke stings his eyes—)

—get away from this place. Get away from the heavy footsteps closing in behind him. From the unnatural scream in a voice that was anguish and hatred and loss. It was as though several voices in varying intensities of pain screamed at once. 

“LILY! DON’T HIDE FROM ME!”

Stefano chanced a look behind him and uttered a small moan of fear. 

The man was gaining on him. Black, thick smoke streamed from his eyes and his nose and his open mouth. His hands grasped in front of him blindly and his head turned this way and that as though he couldn’t get a visual on his target. 

“LILY”, he roared in that terrible voice, the intensity seeming to spear Stefano in his heart, “COME BACK TO DADDY!”

Stefano didn’t realize he was breathing in short, staccato moans. He didn’t know his insides, his lungs were burning with the difficult task of drawing adequate breath. 

He didn’t see the crowd of dead faces and outstretched fingers before him until the last second.

With agility he could only attribute to pure adrenaline and blind fear afterwards he dodged them, skidding through the crowd. He heard the groans and shrieks and another gut-wrenching roar from the man but now he could hear another voice, a light giggle intertwined with the sound of the man’s rage and that was most terrifying of all. A blast of heat nearly knocked him down—

(—and he flies off his feet as he runs, his legs almost comically continuing the motion as the explosion tears through everything. He lands hard on his side. His helmet knocked askew from the blast now hangs back on his head and the fear pumps through him and he sees, there, a young man perhaps younger than he was barking orders. Their eyes meet and the young man’s eyes are haunted, wide under the shadow of his helmet despite the strength of his voice. He stares back, remembers himself, his job, his mission. Automatically his shaking fingers grip at the camera hanging around his neck. And another high whistle from above sounds but there’s no time no time—)

—but he caught himself. Another look behind revealed the man’s body jerking again as the smoke billowed out of his face once more. The woman manifested in her black smoke wreath and gently waving white robes as the animated dead lumbered unknowingly towards their final demise.

With renewed hope for escape Stefano continued to run until he could no longer. His heart was pounding. It was so hard to breathe. But there. A door off its hinges welcomed him. 

Better the unknown than the terror behind him. He slammed against it and it fell from the force of his body. He landed hard on his stomach among the ruins of the door in a cloud of dust, coughing and retching. He forced himself to twist onto his back as he sucked in the harsh air through the constricting muscles of his throat.

(Time slows. The camera clicks and the sound of it echoes. There is a terrific swell of heat. Something hits him hard in the face but there’s only a bright burst of red and no pain. The force of the strike. He sees the flash of his camera bulb as his head snaps back, forcing his gaze at the smoke-filled sky. Shrapnel. Debris. Blood. Flesh. The young man is no longer staring at him because the young man is now in pieces. The young man’s pieces rain down on him and the back of his head hits the ground and jars his teeth and the world turns red and then black.)

He must have passed out. He got up as though being roughly shaken from a deep sleep. Confused, he looked around him, a shaking hand running through his unkempt hair as it fell once more over his sightless eye.

And then something brought back the fresh horrors of the day.

“Lily...come out, Lily.”

Stefano paled, spotting a cluster of metal barrels. Scooting as quietly as he could, he found a space behind them and worked on quieting his breathing. 

Yes, he was scared. Frightened out of his mind. 

But the memory of the dead flesh melting away to show bone as the woman sighed and hissed nonsensical fragments was very vivid. His jaw clenched as he heard unsteady footsteps outside the room. It was the man. And only the man. So far anyway.

He looked normal enough. Dark hair. Well built. He was wearing a black vest over a long sleeved once-white shirt, the sleeves no longer white but stained and spattered black. The shine of a metal badge of some kind on the man’s belt glinted in the gloom. He looked human enough.

“You don’t have to hide. Please.”

Except his eyes were black. Empty. Burned out sockets. Small wisps like smoky dark lace would puff out of his mouth as he spoke mournfully. No longer a terrible roar but a tired, sad lament.

“Lily, please. Come out.”

Stefano waited for what felt like days until the man shuffled past the door. He could hear the fruitless pleas grow more distant.

So. Just another lost, damned thing. And definitely something to avoid. Stefano’s mind had cleared. He waited a few more moments, then got up from his hiding place and peered down the hall. Steeling himself, he crept down the opposite way of this new monster, his bleak search for answers resumed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far Stefano and Emily are not a pairing in this story. Just very good friends (until someone got their head chopped off.)
> 
> I hope the weird monster-combo of Sebastian and Myra wasn’t too weird—just my take on what would happen if they’d been given a Silent Hill make-over.


	2. Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps Stefano’s understanding of these “monsters” is not complete after a close, non-assaulty brush with one of them. (I apologize in advance to Sebastian I swear I don’t hate him I’m just a terrible person.)

"A drink for the horror that I'm in. For the good guys and the bad guys. For the monsters that I've been."  
“Sleep" by My Chemical Romance

 

This running for his life thing was getting out of fashion. 

Stefano cursed breathlessly at the sound of the obstacles he had tried to block his trail with being flung aside. Or hopefully having bodies simply crash into them. Thankfully the warehouse he was currently trying to survive escape from had a lot of old crates and barrels to keep his followers busy.

A quick glance over his shoulder gave him the satisfaction of the squirming bodies of the lost souls tangled up in each other’s limbs. And all fighting each other for the honor of gruesomely ending his life. 

How very flattering, he thought without much humor.

He slowed down once the din behind him grew distant. Cautiously he peered out one of the broken windows. He’d gotten a sort of system in dealing with these creatures. Stealth was key, as was execution. Unfortunately his supplies were rather limited. He looked with distaste at the heavy lead pipe he gripped in his hands. It still glistened with the remains of its last intimate encounter with a pitiful creature’s skull.

Crude though it did get the job done. It would have to do for now. What he longed for most were his gloves. They’d gotten so heavy with whatever fluids running through these monsters he’d no choice but to abandon them. He sighed, disliking the cold, naked, and just wrong feeling in his bared fingers. Quietly moving to the door and with one last look around he slipped through without a sound.

He avoided a few wandering dead, using rocks or bottles to distract them away from his location. As much as the idea of ridding his presence of these abominations was beginning to please him he still had to err on the side of caution. Perhaps until he found something better than this primitive tool to defend himself with. 

He spotted a dark building he hadn’t been through before. The only light aside from the street lamps was a single faulty, flickering bulb meagerly lighting the sign announcing the building and not very well. He made his maddeningly slow way to the entrance and, finding it unlocked, let himself in.

The doors shut quietly as he warily surveyed the room. A police station? Ah, perfect. There had to be weapons here. Some way to even the odds. He hated feeling so defenseless.

Down the dimly lit halls and past open doorways, some with doors and some without, he crept, squinting through the darkness and listening carefully for the sounds of any unwanted company. 

Something on the wall caught his eye and he paused at the large font of a newspaper clipping:

HOUSE ENGULFED IN FLAMES: TRAGIC FIRE KILLS CHILD, N

The rest was burned away, which was rather strange considering the article was actually about a fire. He frowned absently then stiffened in surprise. The clipping was actually smoldering. 

Stepping back he saw the walls, covered in newspaper and unintelligible writing on haphazardly pinned papers, what looked like mug shots and photos, all were smoldering. How had he not noticed this? Mesmerized, he gingerly touched the corner of the newspaper article. Minute pieces of it curled into black and gray and floated gently down. 

Extraordinary, he mused silently.

Even more strange the papers were not burning up, their edges only softly glowing red orange.

But many more strange things had happened already that he realized this did not phase him. At this internal reminder the spell of wonder broke and he merely glowered at the gently smoldering wall. As though its existence mocked him.

Eyeing the newspaper clipping one last time, he turned towards the end of the hall. He had been so distracted and he cursed himself for that.

The man was at the end of the hall. Stefano could see his outline, the blinking light outside the window illuminating him in bursts of pale orange. He knew it was him because the metal badge at the man's waist blinked at Stefano with each weak pulse of light.

After a few moments where he was sure his heart had forgotten to beat, Stefano peered at him more carefully, straining to see in the dark.

Why was he not moving?

Nevertheless Stefano clung to the shadows. He spared a glance at the pipe in his hand. Facing this thing head-on may not be the best approach considering all he'd seen. It was certainly possible the woman could manifest and...

He stifled a shudder, then resumed strategy. He recalled the chase--the man seemed unable to actually catch sight of him. Also the guy had no eyes. Despite his own "handicap" at least Stefano had him beat there.

He had a theory. Looking around, he spotted a small piece plaster that had probably loosened from the ceiling or walls of this decrepit building. He slowly bent down and picked it up, keeping his eye on the man's still form. Aiming carefully, he flicked it away from himself into a nearby open room. 

It made the faintest of taps as it landed unseen.

Immediately the man's head snapped up and slowly turned. For a moment more he was still, then he walked towards the direction of where the plaster had landed. As before he gave no indication of using sight, each step careful and deliberate. After a pause he bent down and there was the sound of sifting through the flotsam of the floor. All the while the man's head remained upturned and suddenly his hands stopped searching. Finally (and Stefano couldn't completely confirm it but he was dismally positive) the man held the very same piece of debris he had thrown.

It was aggravatingly impressive. And definitely troubling. But it proved his theory: the miserable creature was blind. But its hearing was ridiculously impeccable. 

With the man seeming to ponder the mysterious projectile Stefano could see the door he had been standing sentinel at was the entrance into the main body of the facility. Where possible resources waited for him. He glanced to where his companion remained, then paled as he was no longer there. 

"I know you're there."

Stefano froze. The voice was close. Allowing himself mere centimeters of movement, he strained his eye and saw, there, in his periphery: a moving, black shape. The man had moved across the room to a connecting doorway mere steps away from where Stefano stood. Somehow undetected. 

Near desperation he scanned for an escape, a defense, distraction--anything that could save him. 

He saw nothing. 

"Is that you? Lily?"

Still searching for whom Stefano assumed was his lost or dead child. And again there were those hollow, dark holes where eyes should have been. In the dimness Stefano could see the faint ribbons of smoke trickling from his face. He urged himself to stay still as the man took another step towards him.

"Sweetheart. I know Dad looks a little different than before."

The man actually laughed. Softly. Sadly. His voice had none of the derangement as before. It was quiet. Tender.

"Doesn't Daddy look funny? I know, sweetie. It's ok."

Stefano watched as the man absently raised his hands and touched the smoking, hollow holes where his eyes used to be and a faint expression of pain flashed through his face before putting on an obviously forced smile.

"It doesn't hurt. I'm alright."

Stefano held his breath, his jaw clenching as the man suddenly took a few quick steps towards and then past him. Light from outside hit his figure.

It was then that Stefano had a very good look at him. The metal glinting on his belt was a police badge. He hadn't a uniform though. 

A detective?

The man's face was pained despite his words. He looked unexpectedly young. Perhaps his late 30's. Still with the black vest over the stained, long sleeved white collared shirt, and black slacks. The outfit positively screamed law enforcement. Stefano stiffened as the man suddenly turned his head towards him as if seeing him. 

5 o clock shadow. Dark, short hair looking as though it had been raked through with a frustrated hand many times. He would have been handsome if not for the haunted look and the lack of eyes. Despite his well-contained fear Stefano idly wondered what color they had been.

"Please, baby. Please answer me. I've been looking for you. I..."

The man inhaled shakily, catching Stefano off guard. Monsters didn’t have to inhale, did they? And the way this creature did it sounded so emotional. As if it were actually human.

"I've gone through so much to find you. Did you know that? You know I would do anything to find you. To... to see you..."

Another surprise. The man brought a trembling hand to his face again, fingers gingerly touching around his empty sockets. As if remembering he lacked the very organs necessary to see anything. 

Another step closer. The scent of cigarette smoke suddenly wafted towards Stefano. And...was that whiskey?

He willed himself still, ignoring the annoying urge to flee. With this proximity it would definitely end in death to do so.

They were only perhaps a foot away from each other. If the man happened to raise his arm Stefano would be found out. And to his dismay, the man did just that. Stefano's eye widened, trained on the hand that suddenly rested on the wall mere inches away from his face. His grip on the pipe tightened so much it hurt.

The man brought his other hand up to his own face and held it there. Short, shallow breaths were muffled behind it. He suddenly leaned his temple against the wall, fully facing Stefano who could detect the now-stronger scent of cigarettes and whiskey and now a stale, barely perceptible trace of cologne.

The man's face was anguish and despair.

"I fucked up, Lily. I'm so sorry I fucked up."

Entranced, Stefano watched this private, tortured moment. This man was not like the monsters that roamed this world. Was there a small part of a human that still existed? Could he be reasoned with? He kept that in mind for future encounters.

"I know. Daddy used some bad words. I know, baby, I'm sorry. And I'm sorry it's gotten so bad."

Stefano could feel soft puffs of breath against his face as the man spoke. He was so close. A shy kiss away. Stefano flinched as the man leaned his full weight against the ruined wall with a sigh. And then the man smiled grimly.

"Your mom won't forgive me."

He suddenly shoved off the wall and Stefano stifled himself again as the man straightened up, casting a blind gaze at the ceiling.

"I should have expected that", the man said quietly and, it seemed, to himself.

To Stefano's relief the man stepped away from him and began walking towards the lobby of the station.

"But you, Lily. My baby. I know you don’t like it when I call you that but no matter how old you are, no matter what you'll always be my baby. You know that, right, sweetheart?"

His voice grew fainter.

"You'll forgive me. Right? You'll forgive your stupid old Daddy, right?"

Stefano remained silent and unmoving as he heard the station door open and then shut. He let out a breath he felt he'd been holding for hours. With a last look towards the direction the man had gone, he resumed his quiet trek through the station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: I know Seb’s age and outfit isn’t the one in TEW2 but I’m saving the reason why for a later chapter.  
> Also I guess this will be sort of an ongoing thing. Thanks for reading the first chapter and for all the kudos. BTW I’m definitely trying to improve on their characters. Also I can take criticism waaaay better than Mr. Valentini so pls feel free to give any advice, pointers, etc.


	3. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stefano finally gets to kill something! Yay! Also he gets some answers but not what he wanted to hear. Boo. A new enemy and a possible ally are acquired. I don’t know how to write summaries.

“I know your world is in my hands. You know I pull the strings. I like to see how tall you stand cuz if I wanted I could take it away.”  
“The Collapse” by Adelitas Way.

 

His aim was accurate. The hunting knife imbedded itself deeply into the monster’s eye with a satisfying thunk. Stefano cautiously stepped out from the bushes, glaring down at the fallen thing with a slight smile.

It was starting to feel good to take these things down though it shouldn’t have. After all, they had all apparently been citizens of Union.

But then guilt was not a very familiar concept to him. And this was survival. 

He’d calmed down a little and was starting to feel more like himself and less like helpless prey. Mainly because he didn’t have a choice. It was either accept it and adapt or scream unendingly and spiral into madness. Loss of control was not an option if he were to get out of this in one piece. And hysteria was rarely flattering.

The police station had been generous. The hunting knife helped. As did the revolver but it had very few bullets so he was saving those. It was more a last resort. Why depend on such a barbaric tool when he had two perfectly good hands to deal mercy kills to these pitiful creatures? He’d never been afraid to get his hands dirty.

He’d also found a pair of black leather gloves, which surprisingly heightened his mood immensely. Perhaps it was the feeling of normalcy he needed and he felt the immediate difference once he’d put them on. 

He bent to tug the knife out of the now-rapidly decaying corpse, grimacing at the slew that came with it.

Absently he wiped the knife on the grass, rather liking the way the still-wet steel glinted at him. 

He hadn’t the opportunity to appreciate any of the strange sights mainly because of the whole avoiding death thing. But there was art in everything. Even the grotesque if the angle was right.

The eternally burning wall in the police station, as unsettling as it was, had been beautiful, wistful in a way. 

“If only I had my camera”, he said absently.

With a final contemptuous look at the corpse he continued scouting a clear passage, adjusting the cuffs of his gloves as he did so. 

He chose stealth over attacking as he made his way through the outside, staying close to the walls and out of view from the wandering monsters. Now that he’d secured a defense of some kind, it was time to do what he’d come here to do. His mind wandered to the daunting task before him.

If only he’d paid more attention to Emily’s almost obsessive interactions with this secret society that had captured her interest. If only he’d noticed how distant and even disturbed she’d become towards the end. He had been so busy in his pursuit of his new inspiration believing her behavior to be the result of the latest fad she habitually delved into. If she hadn’t pestered him to join her, giving him all the information to do so, he wouldn’t have known where to begin.

He did not mourn her. He didn’t allow himself to. Not when he could have stopped it from happening. He was sure he could have intervened. But he hadn’t and now she was dead and he was alone. As usual.

Apparently they were eager to recruit although their standards were high. He had, of course, passed with flying colors. Their judgment of character was another thing, as apparently they hadn’t made any kind of connection from him to Emily or notice any sort of ulterior motive. He played their little born-again cultist role perfectly. He was brought in to add some culture to this little town. Something he was all too eager to grant.

But then everyone began getting sick. It started as hallucinations, paranoia. A sort of catatonic state followed and then death. And then a new kind of monstrous life. 

The world was apparently ending. It had to have had something to do with the very shady people behind it all. He was determined to survive it and escape with his life but not without—

“You seek answers.”

The voice was a sonic boom. He staggered under the force of it before whipping his body this way and that, trying to locate the source. He’d been so careful since that close brush with the strange man at the police station. How could he have been caught off-guard?

He was suddenly aware of the silence. The streets, which had been somewhat busy with the monsters, were empty. 

“They do my bidding. I thought privacy necessary so we could talk.”

Stefano winced under the intensity of the voice.

“Then why hide?”, he suddenly asked the disembodied voice, anger and irritation overcoming fear, “Why not show your face rather than—“

A burst of fire suddenly erupted behind him. Apparently fire was a theme and he was growing bored of it.

He turned and backed away from the fiery column before him. He wasn’t sure anymore what was real. This could surely be the beginning of the end; imagining giant spontaneous but controlled firestorms probably counted as a hallucination. 

He found he did not care at the moment and this somewhat amused him. This place had been trying his patience. He did not appreciate being nearly terrorized into insanity nor the repeated attempts at assassinations. He felt everything he had witnessed so far was nothing more than spectacle. A distraction. And he did not like being toyed with.

“And now what?”, he asked, bracing against the fiery wind that whipped at his hair and clothes, “Who are you?”

The fire somehow seemed to look at him. And he glared up at it annoyed and ignoring that his full face was bared, the fire blowing his hair back. The scar tissue on his eye felt singed by the heat but he held onto his irritated frown.

“My name is Father Theodore. And I am a friend. Or I can be.”

Stefano refused to be impressed. Nothing was as it seemed here. Especially not giant talking pillars of fire.

“Well. I can certainly tell you have a sort of authority here. But why not approach as that, a friend, rather than with this intimidating display?”

The fire continued burning for a moment as though considering this, then died down. In its place stood a man in black and red robes. Although the street lights had gone out, the man had a sort of orange-yellow glow about him, making his dark skin almost red.

The man smiled warmly, “Does this suit you?”

“It is definitely more easy to take in. Thank you. Now we can talk like men, yes?”

The man’s smile did not falter. There was certainly something captivating about him. His voice did hold an authority, deep and rich and smooth. It would have captured one’s attention on its own without the aid of the strange psychic projection. There was a sense of stability. It demanded loyalty and would provide protection and safety in return.

Or rather, it demanded subservience. Inwardly Stefano sneered at this concept but outwardly offered a polite smile.

“I can see you have something about you. You take notice of what others cannot or choose not to. You are not one easily fooled by tricks of the light, are you, Stefano?”

Stefano faltered. He hadn’t expected this man to know his name. And this Father Theodore seemed to also anticipate this. 

Stefano recovered nonetheless, “Of course. As an artist, such a discerning view is a must. But you have me at a disadvantage. How is it you know of me and I don’t have that same privilege of you?”

“I was the one who directed Emily to have you join us.”

At the mention of her name Stefano’s eye narrowed imperceptibly. Father Theodore, of course, noticed. He bowed his head and spread his arms solemnly.

“Her demise was most tragic”, and at this Father Theodore’s deep dark eyes caught hold of Stefano’s single pale blue one, “But it did bring you to us.”

“Ah. That was...unfortunate of you to say”, Stefano replied quietly but with restraint, “You seem to suggest it was necessary.”

Father Theodore’s smile became as chilly as his fire was hot, “Some evil is necessary, I’m afraid.”

There was a dull burning Stefano felt in his face suddenly. It seemed his surroundings became sharper but he tried to suppress the anger. 

“So”, he said almost conversationally, his fingers sliding casually to his hip where his knife hung, “You claim to offer friendship. But now you confess to me a very grave sin and for that, Father, no amount of Hail Mary’s and Glory Be’s will cleanse you of it.”

Father Theodore laughed and the sound was almost pleasing if not for the hot anger pounding through Stefano’s entire being.

“There is no sin here. She simply failed to dedicate herself to my cause. I have power but, for now, only in this place. I could not provide protection once she decided to leave us.”

“You had her killed”, Stefano suddenly snapped, “Because what? She would not join your little flock?”

There was a sudden roaring. Stefano turned to see fires lighting along the street in the distance. He looked back to Father Theodore, who was calm and smiling peacefully at him.

“It appears we need to work on our new-found friendship”, Stefano said dryly.

“She would have thrived here. Both of you would have. But she said something...someone...was holding her back from committing.”

Stefano’s eye widened, “You...you’re suggesting her death was because I refused to join your cult?”

Father Theodore did not answer. He did not need to.

“How dare you even—“

“Would she have been protected had she been here with me? With us?”, Father Theodore asked quietly, “Would she not have been murdered so brutally out there? A mere trophy for a sick individual?”

“I’ve had enough of this!”, Stefano suddenly growled at him, all pretense at formality gone, “Call your monsters. I’m done with our little talk!”

Father Theodore shrugged, his face serene and fire swirled behind him and engulfed him. Stefano could see him standing before the protective flaming barrier. 

“You will come to us, Stefano. And you will be embraced. But sadly you must suffer before you can see your path. If you can survive.”

With that, the fire roared once more and seemed to break apart and shower down around Stefano as he shielded his face. 

Another roar, closer this time, caused him to look up and barely dodge another monster, this one in flames as it walked. The street lights were still out, making them the only source of light.

“Shit!”

He grabbed his knife and slashed at the thing’s arm as it grabbed at him. Predictively all it did was singe his glove and burn his sleeve and then knock him over. His knife clattered to the side and he rolled to get it only to be confronted by another fiery monster. 

He stumbled to his feet as he flew out of its range but was stopped short by two more of these creatures. His knife felt useless in his shaking hands but he brandished it, turning from each monster to the next in a complete show of bravado, which was really all he had left at this point.

And then he remembered. His gun. One hand warding away the monsters with his knife, the other fumbling over the grip of the revolver, he grabbed it and pulled it out, shooting one point-blank in the face just as its fire flared up hotter than before. He paled as it had no effect. Aside from pissing the thing off. It rushed at him.

“Get down, you idiot!”

The shout came from behind him and was like a blessing from the heavens. He ducked immediately and suddenly heard an explosion above him. One of the flaming monsters was blown away and lay stunned on the ground by an apparent shotgun blast. 

“Get the fuck out of there! Now!”

Stefano wasted no time and crawled and then scrambled to his feet in the direction of the voice. To his immense confusion he felt a jet of water graze his legs and he almost went down again. Instead he threw himself off the street and onto the grass.

A few feet away stood the figure of a man who had apparently opened a fire hydrant and was now aiming something at the fiery creatures as they lumbered towards him.

A shock of electricity sparked and lit up the man’s face for a moment. The spark hit the wet asphalt, taking down three of them in a dazzling web of electricity. However they were only stunned. Dazed, Stefano allowed the man to grab him rather roughly by the arm and yank him to his feet.

“Can you run?”, the man asked urgently.

The shotgun blast still ringing in his ears, Stefano could only stare, “I...what—?”

“Fuck. Come on.”

The stranger dragged him until they were both running, the howls and groans of the returned Lost ones thick in the air and always, it seemed, right behind them.

They finally made it to a dark alley. The man pretty much threw Stefano by his shirt collar through a small break in a chain link fence where he fell in an undignified and bewildered heap. Meanwhile the man collapsed against the wall. Both men took some well-needed moments of recovery, breathing heavily.

Stefano, who had been on all fours trying to catch his breath, finally looked up at the man leaning against the brick wall with his hands on his knees, also still struggling .

“You...you saved me.”

The man nodded as he gulped in air, “Yeah, well if it pisses off Wallace then it was all worth it.”

“Who?”

“Wallace. Theodore Wallace. Your big fiery friend back there.

“Father Theodore?”

“Yeah. That asshole.”

Stefano sat back, resting his arms on his bent knees as he stared up warily at his savior, “I’m...my name is Stefano. Stefano Valentini. Please, tell me. Who are you? Are you...are you real? You’re not another mad man, are you?”

The man extended a bandaged hand and pulled Stefano to his feet. He stood a little taller than Stefano but looked as though he’d seen better days. His dark hair was unkempt and he’d had the beginnings of a grisly beard. Of course, this place would probably do that. Stefano was suddenly self-conscious and tried to appear to casually run a hand through his own hair so it fell customarily over his right eye.

The man’s plain gray shirt was splattered in gore. A shotgun was strapped to his back along with what looked like a crossbow. Another gun was slung on one hip and on the other was what looked like a broken walkie talkie. He had on a pack that looked full of other supplies. Stefano suddenly realized he also looked vaguely familiar and that worried him but for now the man was a godsend. 

The man fixed him with what may have been a grimace or a smile. Probably the former. The street lights suddenly buzzed to life and the fluorescence hit the man’s face. Stefano found himself a little taken aback at the unexpected tawny color of the man’s tired eyes.

The man stepped back into the safety of the shadows and extended a hand which Stefano took cautiously and returned the handshake.

“Sebastian Castellanos. Pretty sure I’m real. So far anyway. And define ‘mad man'."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, bear with me. This started out as a one shot where I just wanted to write Seb as a corrupted Silent Hill demon thing terrorizing Stefano and now it’s becoming somewhat of a monster. So now we have Sebastian as he is in TEW2. But what about Scary Eyeless Lost Seb? And also Father Theodore being his charming asshole self. I’ve got a vague idea of where I’m going but hopefully you all enjoy my struggling through things like plot twists and character development.


	4. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seb and Stefano struggle to survive. Memories are recovered. Not everything is what it seems. Is this vague enough?

“Solace, I’ll never find it. Until our lungs deflate for the very last time.”

“Choke On One Another” by Death Spells

 

Sebastian pressed a finger to his lips, enforcing the warning with a brief glare at Stefano before peeking through a broken window into a dark building Stefano couldn’t identify.

It had been aggravating to say the least. Since Father Theodore made his dramatic exit there seemed more creatures out for their blood. Hopefully they’d find some respite once off the streets. Realistically Stefano doubted that.

With a quick jerk of his head signaling the way was clear, Sebastian moved and Stefano followed, both clinging to the walls as they made their way inside.

“Where are we going?”, Stefano finally hissed after another of many twists and turns they had to take to avoid being spotted. They seemed to be wandering through maintenance halls. To their expected disappointment a few monsters had been as well.

“Somewhere safe”, came Sebastian’s reply after an annoyed glare. Stefano raised a brow at his new companion’s distrustful look, “Where we can talk.”

He either missed Stefano’s indignant huff or ignored it as they crept quietly around another corner. Stefano couldn’t blame him for being suspicious but he was getting impatient now that some of his questions had been answered. While grateful that he had been saved he also did not know who exactly this man was, what he was doing here, and what he had to do with Father Theodore.

And did he really need to stay with this man? He jealously eyed the weapons and packs of supplies hanging off him. It was probably wise to tag along for now. He bit back his irritation and focused on their quiet trek.

After what had to be the most nerve-wracking half-hour since their tumultuous meeting Stefano nearly smacked into Sebastian, who had suddenly stopped walking. 

“What is it?”, Stefano asked quietly but apparently not quietly enough. He felt his good eye twitch with annoyance as he was met with a harsh SHHH.

“I was hardly being loud”, Stefano whispered just as harshly.

“Then keep it that way”, Sebastian muttered back at him, peering into the Hall.

Unable to restrain himself, Stefano said under his breath, “Excuse me, your shushing me was louder than—“

Raising his voice a centimeter, Sebastian shot back, “Look, I’m not gonna tell you again—“

They both cut off as a sudden piercing squeal with intermittent static broke their quiet quarrel. Attached to Sebastian’s hip was the source of the terrible noise—what Stefano had taken to be a broken radio had suddenly come to life loudly.

Very loudly.

“Shit!”, Sebastian yelled, grabbing at the noisy thing.

“Turn it off!!”, Stefano shouted, covering his ears.

“The fuck does it look like I’m trying to do??”

“Why did you leave it on in the first place??”, Stefano snapped back at him.

“It was broken!”

“Well, apparently not!”

“If you’re not gonna help then be quiet!!”, Sebastian said angrily as he fiddled with the radio’s dials and then shook it.

“You’re telling me to be quiet when here you are transmitting our whereabouts to those things??”, Stefano shot back.

As if on cue, a large creature slumped into their hallway and groaned at their direction. Both men froze and backed away. The radio fell silent whether on its own or by Sebastian throttling it. Stefano looked over his shoulder and spotted what looked like a janitor closet. He tugged on Sebastian’s arm. Sebastian glanced back at him, saw the potential hiding spot and agreed with a curt nod. They backed away slowly towards the room, hoping it was unoccupied. The lumbering creature had not seen them yet.

They had nearly made it when the radio screamed again, the pitch so high Stefano could feel it in his teeth.

More growls and shrieks sounded from the hallway they had just left. And behind Sebastian Stefano could see ungainly shadows making their way down the hall.

Trapped.

A colorful string of Italian curses added to the groans, the radio squealing, and Sebastian’s growl of frustration. They booked it to the janitor’s room and barely dodged another creature that had been in fact waiting in the darkened room. 

Sebastian grabbed it and shoved past it, making it stumble. Stefano aided it the rest of the way out the door with a kick in the middle of its back that sent it sprawling. They plunged into near-darkness after Stefano frantically slammed the door at the rising volume of the undead crowd. He could hear Sebastian collapse against the door beside him.

Stefano scrabbled his fingers over the door latch and edges, “Problem!”

“Really?”, Sebastian said distractedly, fumbling with something in the dark. The radio suddenly fell dead and he sighed in relief, “I didn’t notice.”

Stefano ignored his tone, “There’s no lock!”

Sebastian froze then replied wearily, “Fuck. Of course there’s no lock.”

The door began shaking from the force of dead hands bent on taking it down. Stefano braced himself against the door. Sebastian stood and grabbed a large metal shelf and together they moved it across the concrete floor against the door, the sound of metal scraping drowning out all other noise. Items they couldn’t see fell off the shelf and onto the floor around them. 

The door suddenly burst open a few inches throwing them both back. They both hit the ground hard and the shelf began teetering towards them. Slamming his heels against one of the heavy shelves to keep the crowd out, Stefano barely glanced as Sebastian’s form suddenly left his side on the floor. 

“Where are you going!?”, Stefano cried out as another wave of pounding threatened their refuge.

There was no answer. He clenched his teeth and pushed, the muscles of his legs and thighs tightening unbearably as the door began opening again, ungodly howling in the air and fingers prying at the increasing break into their refuge. He felt himself start to slide and groaned with effort, the force becoming too much.

“Move!”

Stefano hesitated, staring at the faces peeking hungrily through the gap in the door, “Are you mad??”

“Move now!”

Stefano squeezed his eye closed with a hopeless moan, then rolled out of the way. The door opened a few more inches. A large metal barrel slammed onto the ground where he’d just been, Sebastian struggling to push it against the shelf. Scrambling to his feet, Stefano threw himself against the barrel and they managed to shut the door completely. They repeated it with two other metal barrels until the door refused to budge. The monsters howled their displeasure. 

The adrenaline leaving him shaky and breathless, Stefano leaned over the barrel, his hands holding his head as he groaned in frustration, exhaustion, and relief. A beam of light suddenly hit him in the face and he flinched away. Sebastian, although clearly agitated, grabbed Stefano’s shoulder and peered at him in the gloom, his flashlight illuminating their surroundings somewhat. Stefano squinted at him.

“Are you alright?”

Stefano nodded tiredly, catching his breath, “As far as I can tell.”

The flashlight clicked off. He heard the other man slide down to the floor and he followed suit. They sat in semi-silence, the growling and moaning ever present.

“I fucking hate this place”, Sebastian blurted suddenly and matter-of-factly. 

In spite of himself Stefano let out a low chuckle, “It certainly doesn’t rank very high for me either. Moving here was a mistake in hindsight.”

He could see Sebastian nod and heard a soft responding but humorless laugh. The dim light caught Sebastian turning his face towards him. Stefano customarily ensured the right side of his face was covered and closed his eye, his head hanging slightly between his knees.

“You live here?”

Stefano smiled and nodded, “If you call this living then yes.”

“How long?”

Amazingly they could hear the horrible noises outside begin to die down. The gathered shadows of legs under the door began to disperse, letting light in from the hall. 

“They’re leaving”, Stefano observed, relief apparent in his voice.

“How long have you lived here?”, Sebastian asked again.

Something in his tone made Stefano pause before answering, “A few weeks, I believe.”

“Where did you move from?”

“I lived in Krimson City very briefly before resettling here.”

“Hm. Really.”

That tone again. Stefano faced him fully in the dark, “Yes. Really. Why?”

Stefano felt as though he were being interrogated. The man’s stare was like a spot light. Rather than answering Sebastian stood up, listening.

“We can’t get out this way. It’ll make too much noise”, he said after a few minutes devoid of sound, gesturing to their barricade. 

A quick sweep of the light found a vent grate near the ceiling. Stefano looked up at it doubtfully.

“Is that really our only option?”

“Looks like. You first. I’ll help you up.”

There was no argument there. Stefano was definitely the slimmer and lighter of the two. The barrels were too far to aid them. Reluctantly Stefano stepped into the offered entwined hands and pushed off Sebastian’s shoulders. Sebastian lifted him up effortlessly, faster than Stefano was ready for. He slapped a hand against the ceiling tiles to avoid hitting his head, glared down at Sebastian, then pried the grate open.

Peeking his head into the vent he was met with inky blackness. He reached down.

“Give me your flashlight. I can barely see.”

He heard a grunt, felt himself shifted a little, then felt Sebastian place the flashlight in his hand. He swiped the beam slowly across the gloom. The vent was clear and thankfully roomy enough for them to crawl through. He shone the light at Sebastian who glared through the beam.

“And?”

“It appears relatively safe.”

He was startled as Sebastian suddenly pushed him up the rest of way and he leaned forward to avoid hitting the ceiling of the vent. Peeking back through the vent opening, he saw Sebastian grab one of the barrels and heave it under the opening. The scrape of metal was sure to alert the horde. Indeed they heard a shriek and the slide of unsteady footsteps.

Climbing onto the barrel, Sebastian then grabbed Stefano’s offered hand and pulled himself up. Beneath them light spilled into the room as their barricade gave with the clanging and din of falling metal, a rather large creature barreling through. Stefano replaced the vent cover quietly and they held their breath, unknowingly staring at each other in the dark as though afraid moving their eyes would give them away. Sebastian held his hand over the beam of the flashlight until the creature lost interest.

They both let out soft sighs of relief.

“Now what?”, Stefano asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sebastian frowned in the dark and shined the light down the few options they had. 

“The safe room was down the hall where we first stopped. We can hopefully get to it from here.”

After reorienting himself, they crept through the vents until Sebastian seemed satisfied with the view through one of many grates they had passed. A light came from the room he peered into.

“I think this is it.”

“You’re not even sure?”

Much to his irritation Sebastian ignored him, popping open the grate and slipping through. Stefano paused, waiting for the telltale groans and sounds of evisceration and, hearing none, climbed through himself.

It was a sparse room. A computer stood to one side on a bare desk. An old couch that looked to serve as a bed and a coffee maker on a filing cabinet stood opposite. Crates and files haphazardly clung to the walls. 

“This is safe”, Stefano stated doubtfully.

Sebastian had taken a seat on the couch, staring at the radio, “Better in here than out there.”

“Indeed you have a point”, Stefano replied, sighing in exasperation, “Are you able to repair this or not? I’m assuming you were in contact with someone who can help?”

He had gestured to the radio Sebastian was fiddling with and took a seat next to him on the couch. Sebastian glanced at him briefly before shrugging slightly.

“I thought it was broken. I was sure. There were wires stuck out of it and the faceplate was cracked—it was completely crushed but now...”

In Sebastian’s hand was a completely intact radio. 

Sebastian paused and shook his head, “God, maybe this place is getting to me.”

“You’re not sick, are you?”, Stefano said half-jokingly, “I’ve no doubt the hospital is full of those creatures so I’d have to put you down myself if you start craving flesh.”

Sebastian shook his head, then suddenly looked at Stefano as if realizing something.

“What is it now?”

“You have no idea, do you?”, Sebastian asked slowly.

“No idea about what?”, Stefano said, not hiding his unease.

Sebastian stared at him for another moment in which Stefano began to fidget a little, adjusting the cuffs of his gloves.

“I’m not sure how to put this”, Sebastian chose his words deliberately, “And I’m not actually sure how it’ll affect you.”

“How what will affect me?”, Stefano asked a bit impatiently. 

Sebastian sighed in soft frustration and looked wistfully at the radio, “Damnit. I wish I could ask Kidman.”

“Who? What in god’s name are you—“

Sebastian stood up and went to stand in front of the computer, observing Stefano carefully.

“So you’ve moved here, what, few weeks ago?”

“That is what I told you, yes.”

“What do you remember about the move?”, Sebastian asked nonchalantly, leaning back against the chair at the computer desk.

Stefano thought this a strange thing to ask, “And what does this have to do with this Father Theodore?”

“Humor me”, Sebastian said.

“Well, if you must know I....”, Stefano began, then paused, suddenly drawing a blank. 

Sebastian appeared to study him again. For the life of him, Stefano could barely remember anything about the move itself.

“Well?”

“I...I hardly think this the time to discuss something as unimportant as...”

It was strange. He trailed off. He couldn’t remember how he got to Union. He knew his studio apartment was near the theatre. He knew there was a train that went in and out of the town but he knew he hadn’t come that way. He couldn’t remember packing. Couldn’t remember menial details about coming to Union—

(Screams. The sound of wood splintering. Angry men’s voices.)

Sebastian was suddenly at his side, looking into his face. 

“What do you feel?”

His mind muddled, Stefano shook his head and frowned at him, “What?”

“You looked like you were going to pass out. What are you feeling?”

He was speaking English, which Stefano understood easily, but the words were not making sense. Instead, jumbled images flashed in his head. It felt as though he were grasping at a dream that was fading away.

(She is screaming. Their hands are on him and their grip is solid. She keeps screaming.)

“What...What is this?”, Stefano muttered unwittingly in his native tongue, staring ahead.

Sebastian merely watched. Stefano did not see his hand resting lightly on his gun.

(She is speaking too fast. Her emerald eyes are wild and she does not blink. He cannot make sense of her words. Her terror is a blanket covering them both.

“—have to go. Please, please come with me! You have to! We can leave. We’ll go where they can’t find us—!”

“Breathe, my dear, breathe! You are not making any sense—“)

Stefano found himself looking at the floor. His breath had become shallow, unsteady. Why was he sweating? It wasn’t warm. Sebastian hadn’t moved.

“What are you...what...?”

(Angry men’s voices. The door splinters then explodes open. Her nails dig into his arm but he can barely feel it. He ushers her to the fire escape but they are there, too.)

“Sebastian.”

He felt the couch dip next to him. The warmth of another body gently radiated against his arm.

“Sebastian, what happened? Why can’t I remember...”

There was a pause, then, “You don’t remember because you didn’t actually move here...”

Stefano stared up at him, pain suddenly spiking behind his useless eye. He closed his good one, waiting for the pain to pass.

“That makes absolutely no sense—“

(He fights them. The combat is not graceful in the least bit. He fights to disable or incapacitate if not kill. 

They are too many. They quickly overwhelm him. Methodically. Practiced. Routine.

His knees hit the floor. 

Their hands are on him. Their grip is solid. 

He can hear her screaming.)

“How is...that is not possible”, Stefano murmured softly but he doubted the words coming from his mouth in the rush of memories. He wasn’t sure what he could trust. His head felt like it was going to split.

Sebastian’s expression was expectant but grim, looking at him curiously. Stefano searched his face as though for answers but saw nothing—

(An ear-splitting whine slices through his head. He feels it first in his right eye and the noise feels like a dagger drilling into his skull. She is screaming and now he is screaming too, writhing in their solid grip. He wants to block out the sound. He struggles to free his arms so he can clap his hands over his ears but they are unrelenting. He can barely stand it.)

“Hey.”

(“You can be so much more than what you are now.”

The words don’t make sense. He fights through the feeling of his very being tearing, draining. 

The lights are too bright. He can’t shut his eyes from them because they are in his head. He’s being forced down but he can barely struggle. They have to hold him up so he doesn’t slip under the...water...is this water? It’s white. It’s cold. He shivers as it soaks through his clothes. A man blocks the light mercifully for a moment but he can barely focus.

“What are you doing to me?”

He knows his words are in Italian but cannot think clearly enough to care. 

The man’s head bows forward slightly as though in prayer.

“You have been to the precipice of death only to return stronger than before. You have seen and experienced horrors that would destroy a normal mind.”

The man’s voice would have been soothing if not for the sluggish terror pumping through reality. The shrapnel hits him and he sees red as his head snaps back. The hot blood covers his face. He slips under a little in his weakness and the water fills his ears, touches the corner of his lips. The smoke chokes him. He hears the echo of the camera and the flash engulfs him—no, the light blinds him as the man moves around him.

“Join me. You will be akin to a god.”

“Where...where is she?”

Sand in his mouth. The sun burns his face. He’s falling. He finds no purchase. Everything is narrowing as though being sucked into a tube and his stomach lurches.

“She is of no consequence. She was weak. Not like you. You survive. You adapt. Your strength is what drew me to you. At my side your strength and power will have no limit.”

“...what have you done?”

Her emerald eyes are wide. Unblinking. She doesn’t scream anymore. The blood pools from under her, inching forward as they drag him out by his arms. His pale blue eye is wide and fixates on her own green. Lifeless. Staring. 

“What have you done?!”)

“Stefano! Hey!”

Something shook him and released a wave of nausea. The floor was hard beneath his back. His eye opened to see Sebastian looming over him, gripping his shoulder and shaking him.

“Stop or I promise I will be sick all over you”, he managed weakly, turning his face away. 

The air hit his clammy skin. His face was exposed to Sebastian but he barely registered it, realizing it only when he could see from Sebastian’s studious expression that his right eye was uncovered. For once he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Sebastian moved away as Stefano wearily sat up on his elbows. He felt the couch behind him and moved so his back was against it. His head tipped back wearily. He could feel himself trembling.

“What happened to me?”, he said finally, his voice shaking. 

Sitting back, Sebastian looked at him in what he imagined to be sympathy.

“This is going to be a little hard to take in.”

Shaking his head, Stefano gestured weakly for him to go on, “Because everything else has not been.”

“Alright. Like I said, you didn’t move here. This is, well, basically a totally immersive computer simulation of the town you call Union. It’s not a real place. It’s a technology called STEM that you’ve been plugged into. Wallace—the man you met as Father Theodore—he has some kind of influence over this place. Those things out there were citizens of Union once and we think it’s his influence that may have turned them into...whatever the hell they are.”

Sebastian peered into his face, trying to gauge his reaction. Stefano remained staring up at the ceiling.

“But STEM affects people on its own and it may be that the complete mind-fuck they’re going through corrupted them enough to turn them anyway. In fact, I was sure you would turn, too.”

Stefano did not miss Sebastian’s hand suddenly move away from his gun. He said nothing. He would have done the same.

Licking his lips before he spoke, he continued to bore a hole through the ceiling with his stare. 

“But...why can’t I remember?”

He heard Sebastian sigh, then reply bluntly, “Mobius—the organization behind all this—manipulated your memories. And it looks like they didn’t do a very thorough job with you.”

“So this supposed church cult was all lies then.”

“If that’s the reason you came here, then yes. Theodore sees himself as some sort of messiah. In this world he is ridiculously powerful, as you probably noticed.”

“Ah, yes, the summoning of hell demons and transforming into a giant pillar of fire indicated as such”, Stefano sighed deeply, “Wonderful. A lunatic with a god complex.”

“Tell me. What do you remember? Before Union?”

Stefano paused, then shut his eye in concentration, recalling and hesitantly describing the rush of memories breaking through the haze of his mind. It was like trying to tell someone about the fading dream. Through it all Sebastian grew more and more alarmed.

“They forced you in here? Why?”

“I cannot say. To be completely honest I cannot even say it is all true. I don’t know what is what anymore.”

Sudden static interrupted them. The radio had activated again and they could hear a sort of undulating signal. Standing, Sebastian left Stefano sitting on the floor trying to come to grips with everything. 

“...it’s close”, he could hear Sebastian mutter quietly.

“What is?”, Stefano asked rather weakly. He willed his hands to stop shaking, rubbing them together and clasping them. The leather creaked quietly as he did so.

“I’ve been following these signals. They’re the only leads I’ve got. The last one lead me to your friend back there—“

“I prefer you’d stop referring to him as that”, Stefano said quietly, recalling wide, green, sightless eyes.

Sebastian paused, then continued, “Sorry. It led me to Theodore. We had a little...tiff. Must’ve gotten me good. I woke up on the streets. Saw you two arguing.”

“You mean to say your ‘tiff’ just happened?”

Really looking at him, Stefano suddenly noticed random singe marks on his forearms and a rather nasty fresh burn on his left temple.

“Yeah. And I plan on bringing him down so I don’t want him to get too far if I can help it. And you. You want answers, don’t you?”

Stefano gave him the ghost of a smile, “Far more than you know.”

He stood up carefully, settling back on the couch, “I want to know why I was captured and brought to this hell. I want to know why he thought it permissible to mold my mind to his liking and I want to know how to recover my real memories. And I want to know—no, I DESERVE to know why...”

He trailed off, standing now but leaning heavier than he’d like to against the couch.

“You want to know why he killed your friend”, Sebastian finished for him quietly.

Stefano looked up at Sebastian resolutely and nodded, “She is...was...harmless. She didn’t deserve what happened. He must answer to me.”

He finally tested standing on his own, feeling his strength returning, “But above all, I want to watch him bleed. Just as he made me watch her.”

He had blurted out the last bit out without meaning to, a little taken aback from the conviction in his words. It did feel nice to let it out. He looked back at Sebastian a little uncertainly.

Sebastian gave him a faint smile, “I think I can work with that attitude.”

They prepared for another excursion. Though they both were still leery about it it seemed the radio was being obedient and actually working with Sebastian which was a relief. If they were to go out among the undead residents of Union they did not need to attract attention to themselves.

The chill air hit them as they slipped into the night. The undulating signal warbled gently at them as Sebastian turned the dial. Stefano watched with interest at two wavelengths on the screen that eventually synced with Sebastian’s careful adjustments.

“There. That house.”

An unassuming house stood shrouded in trees not far from where they stood.

“Theodore is there then?”, Stefano said, trying to keep his eagerness in check.

“Possibly. Something’s in there anyway. But with a signal this big it has to be important.”

The house itself was fairly normal aside from the pitiful creature wandering in its backyard. Stefano dispatched it with a silent throw of his knife before they entered.

It was so quiet Stefano was about to voice his doubts about the radio when a terrible chill grabbed hold of him. Had there always been mist clinging to the floors? It was so sudden he turned to see if Sebastian had been affected as well.

Judging from the wide eyed look of confusion at frosty mist rising from his breath it was apparent the change had affected Sebastian more than it did himself.

“What is happening?”, Stefano asked urgently.

“I don’t know.”

They jumped as a light bulb in the hall burned bright with a low hum and then exploded. Nervously glancing around, they moved so they were back to back.

A low murmur suddenly floated from the adjoining room.

“What was that?”, Stefano asked before a chair suddenly scraped across the floor behind him. He whipped around but save for the displaced chair there was nothing there.

Sebastian didn’t answer. Something was thrown at a wall near them. Another light bulb exploded. 

Then a woman’s sing song voice sent an even deeper chill up Stefano’s spine.

“Oh god”, he moaned, his eye wild and every cell in his body urging him to run.

She was hovering in the entryway to their room. Her face was serene and her eyes still veiled. Gracefully her robes waved around her as though she floated in water. She smiled at Stefano gently.

“We...we have to run. There’s no other way”, Stefano hissed, his voice shaking. He grabbed Sebastian’s arm and pulled him, urging him to follow.

Sebastian didn’t move, his eyes riveted on the woman before them.

“We have to go now!”, Stefano insisted, pulling at Sebastian’s arm, “What are you doing?!”

Sebastian had taken a step towards the figure, “...Myra?”

Stefano turned to him in shock then stepped back involuntarily.

“I’m sorry, Myra. I haven’t found her but I will.”

Black smoke had replaced the cold vapor puffing from Sebastian’s mouth as he spoke. It began pouring out of his eyes but the man did nothing to indicate he noticed at all. 

“Cazzo...”

Stefano felt the wall behind him, his fingers frantically feeling for the door, a window, a weapon, anything to help him out of this predicament. 

Could he even help him? He wanted to reach out and shake him out of it. No wonder he had looked so familiar. 

Sebastian’s head suddenly jerked to the side and he let out a moan, his hands reaching up to cradle his temples. 

“Sebastian”, Stefano stammered out, hating the tremor in his voice, “Are you...tell me what to...please...”

He trailed off as Sebastian suddenly looked up, the smoke puffing from his mouth in thicker streams and the desperation rising in his voice.

“I know, I know, I’m not giving up on her, Myra.”

The woman had not spoken. At least not out loud. She drifted closer to Sebastian’s bent form. Stefano held his breath, pressing against the wall as though he could hide. Why he felt that dreadful chill rather than the hellish heat as he did before he didn’t know and didn’t care. All he could think of was flesh blackening and melting from bone under her gentle whispers. 

Before he could react, the woman’s robes shot forward and wrapped around Sebastian’s waist and legs.

“I’m so sorry”, he continued in that soft, subdued voice, “I’m so sorry.”

The woman sighed and seemed to caress Sebastian’s face and amazingly Sebastian leaned into it. With a sudden unrestrained laugh the same black aura flared up around her. It began shrouding Sebastian in black smoke. Sebastian’s arms fell limply to his sides and his head fell back weakly.

Stefano could only watch. They were between him and the door. 

When the smoke cleared, Sebastian had changed. He stood unsupported with his back to Stefano. The woman remained this time, giggling, her arms held forward as though presenting him. Sebastian’s dark hair had become shorter and his beard was gone, now only stubble. His gore-spattered clothing had been replaced with a black vest, white dress shirt, and slacks, the police badge ever glinting at his waist. He turned to Stefano and his hollow empty sockets stared into him.

“We’ll be a family again. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t ask me what’s going on because I have no idea anymore. I’m just trying to get by at this point. This is a relatively longer chapter because I was having so much trouble with it. I probably made three versions before being satisfied with this one.  
> So. As you’ve noticed I am in love with disjointed mind-fuck flashbacks but at least we’ve got some background on Stefano. And I love Seb and Stefano interaction so this was as frustrating as it was fun.  
> Also (according to countless sites about common Italian phrases) one of the meanings of “cazzo” is “oh, fuck” which I think fits nicely here. Please correct me if I’m wrong. Hope you all stick with me through this wtfness. Thanks for reading :)


	5. Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stefano hopes Sebastian hasn’t become a Lost cause (ha ha get it?...sorry.)

“I think I’ve blown my brains  
Against the ceiling  
And as the fragments of my skull  
Begin to fall,  
Fall on your tongue like pixie dust  
Just think happy thoughts  
And we’ll fly home.”

“Headfirst for Halos” by My Chemical Romance 

 

 

“Stefano...”

The man in question clung to the wall and looked up sharply at the soft call of his name. Sebastian’s new appearance had nearly paralyzed him with fear but hearing Sebastian trying to hold onto his rational mind let shock break through the terror. 

“Sebastian?”, Stefano answered hesitantly, fright making his voice hoarse.

Sebastian staggered back, his arms hugging his body and his fingernails digging welts into his skin. 

“Run”, the command came out strained.

The spectral woman floated a few steps away, gazing at Sebastian serenely as though admiring her work. She still blocked the only exit.

“That may prove somewhat...difficult”, he replied before swallowing hard, failing in his attempt to moisten his suddenly dry throat, “Sebastian, what’s happening to you?”

A strangled moan broke through and Sebastian fell to his knees, rocking back and forth, his head pressed flush against the floor. 

“Is...is it this STEM program? Is it making you...turn...?

“I don’t know”, Sebastian replied, his muffled voice weak, “I don’t...”

He gasped and Stefano could see his entire body trembling with effort. Before Sebastian’s transformation he had dropped the radio. It lay nearby. Sebastian appeared to look at it, his head still bowed, then jerked his head towards it.

“Just. Take the radio. Go. Get away from here.”

Stefano’s eye flashed to the woman once more before inching slowly to the fallen radio. Amidst Sebastian’s gasps and groans the woman giggled softly as though Stefano was doing something funny...or stupid. She did not make a move however. Her smile seemed to goad him.

He toed it, dragged it towards him, and picked it up, holding it tightly. He observed Sebastian uncertainly. Obviously he was still in there just as he had suspected in the police station. 

“Can’t you resist it—?”

With a growl Sebastian’s head snapped back up and he glared at Stefano. His appearance remained this strange, younger version of himself. But where there had been smoking hollows Sebastian’s real eyes, bloodshot and wincing in pain, stopped Stefano’s words. 

“I’m trying but I—Just run! I’m...I’m not...oh fuck I can’t...”, Sebastian clenched his eyes shut again, agony thick in his voice, “No, oh god—oh FUCK—!”

Sebastian screamed as flames suddenly licked out from his eyes. The sickening sound of sizzling broke through. His hands hovered in front of them shakily as they burnt up in their sockets revealing again the smoldering holes trickling black ribbons into the air. Stefano could only stare, struck dumb in disbelieving horror. Unwittingly he slid his own hand slowly up to his damaged eye as though in sympathy.

With a low sobbing moan Sebastian’s head bowed forward and his body seemed to relax. His breathing, harsh and uneven, slowly normalized. He went still, his form still huddled on the floor. Tentatively Stefano crouched and reached out, touching his back.

“Sebastian?”

The man stiffened under his touch, then his head lifted up once more. Stefano recoiled. There was something black oozing and dripping from the empty sockets which, in addition to the look of desperation, was an image Stefano knew he’d remember until the day he died. Which hopefully wasn’t today.

“Lily?”

The blood in Stefano’s veins went cold. Sebastian began to stand, those terrible empty pits trained on him as though he could see.

“Lily, I’m here. Dad’s here.”

Stefano held his breath as Sebastian reached out towards him where he remained crouched. Soot-colored fingers brushed back the bangs covering his eye and then paused. Stefano held his breath, unable to look away, willing his body to stop shaking, willing himself not to submit to panic as another hand smoothed fingers over his left temple. Sebastian’s hands were almost unbearably hot and burned him, his thumb now gently caressing the sensitive scar tissue under his right eye.

He clenched his teeth as Sebastian suddenly but gently pulled him towards him, his burning hands still cupping his face. His knee hit the ground and he steadied himself by putting his hands out against Sebastian’s legs, which he was almost flush against, so close he could see the “KCPD” etched on the police badge on his belt. Sebastian smiled down at him, his fingertips leaving trails of heat as he ran them through Stefano’s hair.

“It’s okay, baby. Don’t be scared.”

Thankfully, the woman took this moment to laugh merrily and rush forward to gracefully capture Sebastian in her embrace, her dark aura flaring around her. Sebastian’s arms fell to his sides once more as the woman’s form began to fade into black smoke. Stefano fell back and moved a little distance away, his heart still pounding in his throat. Sebastian was perfectly still, his expression lost as he began breathing in the smoke.

“No, don’t!”

As though woken from a spell, Sebastian’s body jolted and he turned his head back and forth to locate the source of the cry. Stefano clapped his hands over his mouth and silently cursed himself for his knee-jerk reaction. Stepping towards Stefano, his arms raised and searching tentatively, Sebastian broke free of the woman’s dark, transparent embrace.

“Lily, don’t go.”

There was a groan of displeasure as the woman reformed. She focused her veiled gaze at Stefano, her teeth bared. That was all the motivation it took.

Steeling himself against the panic nibbling at his mind, Stefano frantically pushed up and tore past Sebastian and the woman. He heard the woman’s dark laugh and Sebastian give out a scream of rage which made his legs move even faster. Heavy footsteps pounded the floor behind him.

Escape was priority. He completely dropped the short-lived sense of security and sprinted through the halls, desperate for somewhere to hide.

Stefano grabbed at a doorframe and swung himself into a room, slipping behind the door. He was going to be found. He was sure of it. His legs were trembling and he hated it. He was going to be caught and then who knows what...

On a table nearby, his frantic search eyed a vase. Gingerly picking it up, he waited for Sebastian’s tell tale careful steps to pass his hiding place and held his breath, then flung the vase across the hall. It landed with a sharp crash.

The footsteps paused and then rushed past him. He crept away, seeing Sebastian turn into the room the vase had gone into. Only a few feet past his hiding spot, a treacherous floor board creaked.

He froze as Sebastian reappeared, dark hollows aimed where Stefano stood.

“Found you.”

Blindly Stefano turned his heel and ran. It felt as though Sebastian was upon him in an instant as fingers closed upon his shirt collar and pulled. Stefano swung around and smashed his elbow as hard as he could into Sebastian’s face. Sebastian released him and staggered back into an open door. Stefano used the opportunity to run as though hell had just opened up behind him. 

Ahead he could see the banister of the stairs he and Sebastian had taken upon entering the house. He practically leapt down the steps, stumbling, then skidded into a short hallway and into another room.

Looking over his shoulder thankfully revealed nothing behind him for now. Taking a few precious seconds to catch his breath, he scanned the room for a safe place. 

He was in a small kitchen which lent little to no hiding place. There were two doors; one looked to lead outside, which he wasn’t quite ready for. He chose the other, hoping for a place to wait things out or, better yet but very unlikely, a closet full of weapons.

“...astian?...ou there?....swer me!”

Stefano nearly died on the spot as a sudden crackling voice spit out of the radio he’d forgotten. He had been holding it against his chest in a death grip during his run. 

“...llo? Sebast...plea...you there?”

It took a moment for Stefano to realize it was an actual sentient voice. He had been prepared to smash it for silence, believing the cursed thing to be malfunctioning again, but he could have sworn the voice—female it seemed—had said Sebastian’s name.

However he heard footsteps overhead pause and then slowly make their way to his direction. The person on the radio was still speaking, demanding that Sebastian answer her and this was not going to go well if Stefano didn’t want to be found. 

Fumbling with the radio, Stefano peered at the controls.

“Hello”, he whispered, testing it.

There was a lightly static-filled pause, then, “Oh god...Sebastian?!”

“No”, Stefano hissed angrily at the volume, “It’s not. You need to be quiet before you get me killed so I’ll tell you only once: Shut. Up.”

“...who the fuck is this?!”

The footsteps were closer. Stefano looked up desperately, then back at the radio and its now-angry voice.

“Did you not hear me?”, he hissed angrily.

“Where is Sebastian?”, the voice loudly demanded.

He could hear a creak on the top of the stairs. He looked down at himself, at his pants pockets way too small for a cell phone much less a bulky radio, then without a second thought untucked his dress shirt and stuffed the radio under it, the speaker flush against his stomach. His eye squeezed shut and he suppressed a small noise of discomfort at the cold material of the radio biting his skin but was relieved that the voice, although still upset, was muffled rather well. 

Holding the radio tight against him, Stefano crept slowly to the other door and, to his relief, found steps leading down to a basement. Before heading down, he very quietly unlocked the door leading outside then slammed it open and rushed back towards the basement door, hiding behind it.

As he had hoped, Sebastian made his way through the kitchen and out of the house plaintively calling for his Lily. Stefano waited for a few minutes of silence before heading down the steps.

So far the spectral woman had not reappeared. With a sinking feeling Stefano wondered if she had been able to join Sebastian after all. He could at least sneak around Sebastian, even physically hurt him apparently, but he didn’t know what other horrors the woman—Sebastian had called her Myra?—was capable of. 

At first glance there were few supplies in the basement. He found a small but powerful flashlight and picked up a handful of random screws and bolts to use as noise-making distractions. 

Finally he slumped down against the concrete wall. It was disheartening finding himself alone again. He found himself missing Sebastian’s company. His only comfort was that he’d at least still had his gun and his knife. And the radio.

He pulled it out from his shirt. It had gone silent. 

“You may speak”, he said wearily.

“Who are you?”, the voice immediately demanded.

Stefano sighed, feeling his limbs turn to jelly as the adrenaline left and weariness took its place.

“I, my dear, am thoroughly and utterly exhausted and on the cusp of going completely out of my blessed mind.”

“Why do you have this radio?”

“...Sebastian dropped it before...”

He paused and sat in silence, drawing up his knees to his chest and sighing.

“He’s not dead”, the woman said matter-of-factly.

“Oh? How do you know?”, he snapped irritably, glaring at the radio, “He may as well be...you didn’t see...”

The radio crackled at him, then, “Then tell me what happened to him.”

He was about to respond rather rudely to her demands when he recalled Sebastian mentioning a name.

“...are you Sebastian’s contact?”, he tried.

He was met with static.

“Sebastian mentioned one and dropped a name. I need to know for sure before we go any further.”

“...give me a second.”

The radio cut off completely. Stefano frowned at it, then set it on the ground near him. He was at a loss as to what to do. After all, without Sebastian and his plentiful supplies he felt a little less confident about going against Father Theodore. Not after everything he’d been told.

Pressing his forehead into the crook of his elbow, he shut his eye tightly. He was tired. He wanted to go home.

Then he remembered Union was his home. And that his apartment in Krimson City was probably off limits seeing as how he had been forcibly removed from it. He glowered. Recalling all this did not improve his mood.

The basement offered shelter but not much warmth and he shivered. A number of water-damaged boxes were stacked near the walls. He was considering digging around in them when the radio came to life with a welcoming pop of static. 

“Are you there?”, the radio crackled again.

He let his legs slide out listlessly before him, holding the radio in his lap with his head resting back on the concrete wall. The strength seemed to drain out of him. He wanted to sleep.

“Unfortunately.”

“Good. I guess. Could you tell me your name?”

He opened his eye and stared wearily at the radio speaker. She seemed more in control of her emotions but he could still hear a brittle quality to her voice.

“No. You first.”

There was an exasperated sigh, then, “Fine. Agent Kidman. Now who are you?”

“Valentini”, he said, for once not saying his name with customary flourish, “I reside here...or at least I thought I did. Sebastian explained what this place really is. I’m sure you can guess this is less than ideal.”

“Valentini”, Kidman murmured, considering his name, “...Valentini...where have I...Stefano Valentini?”

Normally he would have perked up at the thought of his reputation preceding him. However, now he felt a sort of sinking feeling. 

“I’m taking your prior knowledge of me a bad omen. It’s proved so in my time here.”

“You were one of the final transfers from Krimson City. Sort of last minute. Our recruiter Theodore Wallace pushed for you. He’d said you were a prime candidate.”

“Ah. He mentioned something along those lines.”

“So I take it you’ve met.”

“Yes, I have had the displeasure of making his acquaintance. And please understand if he crosses my path again it will not fair well for him. We have to...discuss a few things.”

Despite his bold words Stefano didn’t mention he had no idea how he was going to accomplish all that.

“Welcome to the club. First things, how did you get this radio?”

“Sebastian told me to take it. He’s...not quite himself although he does seem to be in there somewhere. Though we did just meet not long ago. Perhaps he was like this the whole time.”

“Like what? What are you talking about?”

Stefano shuddered, “One of them. One of the creatures that infest this terrible place. What your STEM program apparently created.”

“What?!”

Sighing he described his various meetings with Sebastian and then the recent confrontation with the woman and the result.

“...shit.”

“Agreed.”

“Where is he now?”

Stefano stood, peering through one of a few small windows looking outside but only saw clumps of weeds obscuring his view.

“Haven’t the slightest idea. I was actually trying to get away from him when you nearly got me killed with your incessant yelling.”

“You have to find him.”

He nearly dropped the radio.

“I must have been distracted. I could have sworn you said to actively search him out.”

“Yes. Look, I can’t talk long. This is a secure line but it won’t stay that way. You said yourself, he’s still there. You need to find him and get him back.”

He gawked at the radio, unsure how to even respond.

“Did you not hear the part where he’s turned into one of those...those things and can apparently disembowel others in a matter of seconds? Did you not get that part? Would you like me to describe it in detail because I saw that very up close.”

“I understand, but—“

“I believe I was perfectly clear. There is simply no way I am risking my life or my sanity for a mistake this Mobius organization made—”

“This is bigger than you!”, Kidman yelled, “I am already risking a lot and so is he. Probably more than either of us. If he’s still in there, if he managed to...to turn back or whatever, he can do it again. I know it.”

“This is insane. You all are insane.”

“Look, you don’t stand a chance in there without help. Sebastian was able to resist the effects of STEM for as long as he could and it’ll only be a matter of time before it gets you, too.”

The thought of joining the ranks of these pitiful monstrosities gave him pause. 

“If you want out, if you want to survive, you need our help. Even if I could take you out of there Mobius would find you. You’d never escape. You need us. And right now Sebastian needs you.”

Stefano went quiet, glaring sullenly.

Kidman took the opportunity of the silence to further her case, “You have the same goal considering Theodore. The both of you together can reach that goal better and faster than on your own. But I’m sure you realize that.”

It irritated him to no end that she was making a lot of sense. And it was getting to him. Tightly shutting his eye again as though it would lessen the blow, he forced the words out, “Alright. Fine. What choice do I have?”

There was a sigh of relief, “Thank you.”

“Any advice you’d like to give before I embark on this suicide mission?”

There was silence for such a time that Stefano thought they’d been cut off.

“I have a theory”, Kidman said a little hesitantly.

“Do you. Wonderful. Is a theory going to stop him from showcasing my insides?”

“Okay, well do you have any suggestions?”, she snapped at him.

Kidman seemed to take his silence as a ‘no’. A few minutes later he was preparing himself to leave his shelter. After going through the mildewed boxes, he found a tin containing a few revolver bullets, some batteries, and what looked like an ancient but unopened first aid kit. He picked the least water-damaged bag to put it all in and used its strap to tie it tight around his waist. It wasn’t very fashionable but it provided easy access to his supplies.

Finding Sebastian would be a task in itself but the town was not very big and for that he was grateful. Kidman’s theory was not very comforting however. 

“Once you get close to him, tune into this frequency and leave the rest to me. Just make sure the radio is as close to him as you can get it.”

After she had told him her theory he had considered it while going through his meager supplies.

“How sure are you this will work?”

“I’m not sure. I told you it’s a theory. One of our agent’s ideas. She’d actually had a device but...”

He’d waited for her to continue, doubt ever weighing on his shoulders.

“...I mean it worked.”

“Judging by your hesitation I’d say it didn’t work very well. And that this agent is also dead.”

“...again if you have any ideas now would be the best time to put them on the table.”

Her theory was a certain frequency may be able to trigger Sebastian in returning to his normal self. Or perhaps incapacitate him enough for Stefano to secure him and they’d go from there. Stefano did not have very high hopes on either plan.

“And if it doesn’t work?”

He’d taken her silence as his answer.

“Look, it’s better than nothing. Just...do your best.”

With a sigh, he made sure his knife was easily accessible, then made his way upstairs. Peering through the door, he spotted the corpse of the creature he had killed prior to their entering the house. Going through its remains he took what looked like a syringe with a strange blue substance and described it to Kidman.

“Take that with you. It’s a healing serum. Doesn’t exist outside of STEM.”

“I don’t even know where to begin to look”, he muttered at her, adding the syringe to his supplies.

“Keep it discrete but check in with me now and then. For your safety I won’t contact you unless absolutely necessary.”

With that he was alone. Again. Grimly, he set forth, deciding the police station was his best option for now as he’d seen him there once before.

There were more of them on the streets now. One caught his eye in particular; a policeman that staggered around with the lower half of his jaw hanging by a few obstinate shreds of tissue. Luring it his way, he jammed his knife through its gaping mouth into its skull, ripped it out with a dislodging twist, and plunged it back deep into the side of its head to the hilt.

Pleased as it crumpled to the ground, he was able to acquire a stun gun and a few more bullets. He was getting the hang of this. And he felt a little better knowing taking them down was a must if he wanted supplies.

The police station was as dark and foreboding as it had been before. He made his way in through the back this time, slipping through a broken window. 

The wall was still burning on with its papers and pictures. He passed it by, then an article gave him pause. 

“HEAD NOT RECOVERED-According to KCPD the body of a woman was found in Krimson City Park this morning. The victim has been identified as Emily Lewis...”

His jaw had been clenched so tight it had hurt before he’d realized. He glanced up, noting the articles had similar stories of models killed in his prior city along with pictures of crime scenes. 

One had a woman on her back, a beautiful necklace with a large gem resting in the hollow of her neck. He knew the gem was an emerald. Her arms lay at her sides, the palms of her hands up as though questioning. She had no head but he knew immediately who it was.

As he glared at the photo blood suddenly blossomed from the ragged stump of her neck. He merely watched coldly as it soaked in the articles around it, crimson dripping down the walls.

“You could have saved me”, whispered a sorrowful, young woman’s voice behind him.

He froze, then whipped around to see nothing. He was still alone in the station. A dull ache began beating behind his right eye. He shut his good one and shook his head.

“I know what you’re doing, my friend”, he said into the empty room, his words sounding strong despite the tremor in his body he tried to hide, “You will not get at me so easily.”

When he opened his eye the articles once more featured the burning house and the pictures were mug shots and police reports as before. He smiled grimly, the cold shock that gripped his heart a few seconds ago fading. He could have sworn he heard a dark, smooth chuckle but he ignored it.

He passed into the hallway where he had seen Sebastian earlier, keeping a careful check on his surroundings and listening for any suspicious noises. It was eerily quiet which was very unsettling.

Through one of the dusty windows he saw the streets were once more abandoned. The lamp posts were flickering off one by one. It seemed Theodore was setting the stage for another act.

A faraway growl from outside caught his attention for a moment. He was about to resume his search when a fence from across the street from the station seemed to explode.

A mass of creatures were attacking something. Stefano’s eye widened as he recognized Sebastian in the thick of the fight. 

Despite the size of the crowd it looked like he was holding his own. In fact the fence had been blown outward because the horde of undead had been forcibly thrown through it. 

Sebastian staggered into the street and a large, boil-covered monster charged at him. With a sudden loud bang and a cloud of black smoke Sebastian was gone only to reappear behind the creature. Effortlessly he punched his arm through the creature’s spine and Stefano watched as the pitiful thing seemed to burn from the inside, fire shooting out of its gaping mouth and eyes before crumpling into a bubbling black mass onto the pavement.

“How?”, Stefano wondered aloud, “How am I supposed to...”

A sudden burst of fire shot up, erupting out of the pavement. Sebastian didn’t seem to notice as he engaged with two of the undead. To Stefano’s horror a pair of the fiery monsters he’d met after his encounter with Theodore stumbled out of the flames and headed straight for Sebastian.

Stefano found himself running from the window, flying out of the police station, unsure what he was going to do or even why. With Sebastian in this state, would he even know Stefano was on his side?

Probably not.

At his approach three of the creatures turned towards him, their rotting arms outstretched. Stefano moved fast, dancing out of one’s reach and thrusting his knife into another’s forehead. With his other hand he brought out the revolver and put a few well-placed bullets into the unhinged jaw of another. Ripping his knife out of the now-dead body, he barely dodged as the third creature made to tackle him.

It caught his arm, its grip strong but slippery with its decay. It stumbled and Stefano plunged the knife into its neck, using the handle to bring the creature’s head into his knee with a moist crack of softened bone that made Stefano curl his lip in disgust. The creature fell to its knees, the perfect height for him to deliver a final brutal stab into the side of its head.

He could feel heat, his shirt and hair already sticking to his skin. Over his shoulder he could see Sebastian suddenly blink out in a burst of smoke and reappear again to take out two monsters, his arms plunging deep into their chests and erupting fire through them. There was a barely visible aura around him like heat waves.

“Merda...”

Beyond him, however, one of Theodore’s fiery minions approached.

“Sebastian!”, he yelled out. 

Surprisingly, Sebastian paused and Stefano paled at the sight—his face was twisted in anger, he was covered in gore, bits dripping off his face and his arms. He made for Stefano as though he were just another undead obstacle.

“WHERE IS SHE?!”

His cry was thunderous, multi-voiced, and he staggered towards Stefano with his arms ready for killing.

Stefano froze, his knife shaking in his hand. He fumbled for the radio as he took a few cautious steps back.

“Sebastian”, he cried out desperately, “Sebastian, can you hear me—?!”

Gritting his teeth, he frantically tuned into the planned frequency, keeping an eye out for enemies and on Sebastian’s advancing form. 

The radio popped on with static again, “Stefano? Did you find—“

“WHERE. IS. SHE.”

With a loud bang and smoke Sebastian was in front of him. Before Stefano could react, a hand blackened with rotten blood and entrails grabbed his shirt. He could feel heat burning him from just his proximity. The radio fell out of his hand and clattered somewhere on the ground. 

“SEBASTIAN, LISTEN TO ME!”, Stefano yelled, struggling.

With a desperate growl he remembered the stun gun he’d found earlier. Struggling, he pulled it free from his pack and thrust it into Sebastian’s chest. It let out a staggered buzzing noise.

The only thing it accomplished was angering Sebastian who grabbed it out of Stefano’s hands. The thing cracked and melted in his grip. With a roar Sebastian drew his arm back. Smoke rose from his closed fist. Stefano uselessly pulled at the iron grip, his eye wide and focused on that coiled fist ready to painfully dispatch him.

They were separated as one of the fire creatures suddenly barreled into them. Stefano landed on his back, stunned for a moment before the struggling pair nearly trampled him and he scrambled out of the way. The creature grabbed Sebastian by the throat, lifting him up as he growled and twisted.

The shots hit the creature in the neck and the side of its face. Stefano hurried to reload the revolver as the creature appeared stunned. But then it dropped Sebastian and turned its attention to him.

“Fuck fuck fuck”, Stefano muttered like a mantra under his breath, his shaking fingers struggling with the bullets. He’d already dropped a few and they were limited in supply. He glanced up to see the distance closing between himself and the fire creature.

“Fuck fuck f-fuck—“

The creature suddenly flared up like hell had been summoned and sprinted at Stefano with a chilling, rasping groan.

“FUCK FUCK FUCK—“

Sebastian suddenly appeared between them through a haze of black smoke. With an inhuman scream of rage he tucked his head and ran straight into the monster. Stefano watched awestruck as fire swallowed them both. For a moment he was sure Sebastian was in there burning to death when suddenly there was another loud roar and the creature’s flame died as Sebastian, his arms sunk deep into the thing’s mid-section, tore the doomed creature in half. 

The remaining flaming monster threw itself at Sebastian but unfazed he merely threw a hand out and caught it by the face. He gripped its head in both hands, apparently unaffected by the creature’s body engulfed in flames. There was a high sizzling sound and its skull cracked and then exploded like a watermelon. And very unlike a watermelon the interior of its head splattered and sizzled where it fell.

Sebastian remained still for a moment, his shoulders heaving before turning back to Stefano, who was rooted to the spot with his mouth slightly ajar in shock at the efficient brutality he’d just witnessed.

“Where is she?”

With those angry eyeless hollows now aimed at him, Stefano grabbed the radio and began walking backwards and away from Sebastian’s slow, measured steps. Somehow it was more terrifying than when he’d been chasing him. 

“Kidman?”, he hissed into the radio, his knuckles white as he gripped it painfully hard, “I found him.”

“I hear him. Shit...I have an idea just—“

Suddenly Sebastian was in front of him again, glaring down at him with all the fury in the world.

Stefano froze and licked his lips nervously, the radio shaking in his grip.

“Sebastian, listen—“

“Tell me where she is”, Sebastian growled low and dangerously.

Stefano remained motionless, wanting to avoid any sudden movements as Sebastian grabbed his shoulders, bringing him close. It felt as though he were standing in front of an oven. He could smell the cigarette smoke and alcohol and now rotten and burned entrails. He grimaced as the heat gripping his shoulders intensified.

“Daddy?”

Both men stopped, then looked down at the radio.

“Daddy, where are you?”, said a muffled, plaintive girl’s voice. 

Sebastian let him go and almost tenderly plucked the radio from Stefano’s trembling hands. The anger visibly dissipated from Sebastian, his empty eyes fixated on the radio. Stefano stumbled back.

“Baby?”

There was a pause, then Kidman’s voice suddenly yelled out from the speaker.

“Stefano, make sure he has it close!”

Sebastian’s expression twisted in confusion and then heat suddenly flared up around them.

“DO IT KIDMAN DO IT DO IT NOW”, Stefano yelled as Sebastian looked up at him with murder on his face.

A horrible piercing squeal suddenly broke through. Sebastian’s head snapped back as though hit and he dropped the radio, his hands gripping his head as he screamed and twisted, falling onto his back, his body arching in pain. The sound continued to split the air.

Unfortunately the sound also shot through Stefano’s head like a bullet. He immediately fell to his knees, his hands clapped over his ears. He hadn’t realized it would affect him as well. Perhaps Kidman did. He didn’t know. He didn’t care at the moment. He gasped and then a growling moan broke through his clenched teeth as the sound drilled into his brain like a knife.

He could feel pavement beneath him as he writhed miserably, the sound seeming to focus on his right eye most of all. His finger nails dug into the skin of his face, into the scar tissue bordering his eye, his heels digging convulsively into the ground and then he could hear a roar behind the piercing whine, like a rush of flood waters, like a train bearing over him to crush him under its wheels.

His moan turned into a scream and it was as though his entire body, his entire world was screaming and he was drowning in this maddening roar, falling into it, flailing and helpless. 

And quite suddenly it stopped. The swell of violin music rushed over him like velvet. He was floating, euphoria flooding into him and he opened his eyes.

His eyes.

He sat up, found he had been laying on a marble floor. He could see the reflection of his hand which was covered in soft, maroon leather and he gently fluttered his fingers, smiling slightly as the reflection on the floor mirrored his movement. But then he gasped in wonder as he looked up.

Picking himself up, he stared wide-eyed at the glory around him. Everything was astounding. Everything was new. 

Everything was covered in blood. 

Body parts piled, malformed statues made of flesh, puddles and rivers of blood lay before him.

Grinning, he spun giddily, inhaling the iron scent and feeling it go to his head like a drug.

Framed along the walls were photos, HIS photos, his art. Widened, blood shot eyes gazed back at him. Soft, shuddering mouths forever caught in their final breaths welcomed him.

He walked slowly, languidly enjoying the magnificence surrounding him like a lover’s arms. He yearned for it. The world was a blank canvas aching to be caressed by his expert hands.

Stefano smiled, a soft blue glow emitting from his right eye as everything danced and dripped in lovely crimson shades. 

“Beautiful”, he breathed, wonder softening his voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to apologize to Sebastian who has every right to punch me repeatedly in the face for making him go through all this. And I guess I just can’t stay away from Canon Stefano. 
> 
> Fun fact: the weird rushing noise Stefano hears before he wakes up at the end of the chapter is from Hithouse’s cover of “Ordinary World” from the game soundtrack. I tried to describe it and if you’d like to hear what he hears listen to the opening of the song really loudly to the point that it’s painful but not while driving because it’s distracting and your expression might be a little off-putting to other drivers.


	6. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sebastian breaks the world record for being the most done person in the history of the known world. Perspective switch to Seb’s POV.

“I know you’re there coursing through my veins....This bitter pill I’ve swallowed down is greeted by a poisonous smile, a calcified heart, a cancerous gut, the appetite to give up.”

“Veins! Veins!! Veins!!!” by Frank Iero and the Patience

 

“...Myra?”

The smoke smell filled his nostrils, watered his eyes. Flames licked at the walls, eating at the old wood greedily.

Sebastian paid it no mind because before him Myra stood with heartbreak etched on her face. 

“Where is she? Where is our baby?”

Her words were soft and cool, echoing through the heat blazing around them, through the crackle of the fire, replacing all sound in his mind.

“I’m sorry, Myra.”

She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders stiffly jerking. She had never been one for tears. She was a rock. His rock. And now wave after wave of soft sobs washed over her like the merciless tide. 

Her pain nearly drowned him, too. The weight of the past few years dragged him down. The loss of their lives to the incomprehensible tragedy of losing their little girl, first in death, now in this nightmare, and then losing more and more to Mobius and Beacon and STEM. 

The world was dimming. Or was he closing his eyes? The smoke made his eyes burn and he shut them tightly against the discomfort. 

When he opened them again Myra stood out against the backdrop of flames. She stared at him earnestly, then reached a hand towards him. It was like a life preserver and he hungrily grabbed for it, pulling and then crushing her against him.

She felt...cold. And so small. Like she was incomplete. But then hands moving up his arms haltingly were hard and strong. Her fingers were like ice, like frozen needles infusing the chill into his veins. Despite that his face pressed into her hair. He didn’t want to let go, breathing her scent in.

“We can’t let them get away with this. We can’t let them take her, too.”

He nodded in agreement against her, ignoring the smoke and flames surrounding them. He couldn’t feel them. They weren’t important. There was only one thing that mattered. 

“I haven’t found her but I will.”

He felt her smile against him. It had been so long since anything but despair or distance came from her and he relished it, almost hating when she began to pull away.

He could feel that fiery surge inside him, that rage that had served him so well at Beacon, helped him claw his way out of that hell and helped him fight his way through this one. It filled him like chemicals. 

“She’s alone out there. Our baby. She’s lost. Out there with those...”

She fixed him with her sky blue eyes and the memories of when she’d look at him without the marring of pain and loss made him dizzy. 

“I know, I know, I’m not giving up on her, Myra.”

The smoke grew thicker. He could barely see her in front of him now. The flames swirled around them with a vicious roar, stinging his eyes. Instinctively he moved to protect her but she shook her head and stilled him, the ghost of a smile touching her trembling lips as she fought tears. 

God, he had to make things right.

“I’m so sorry”, he murmured, his voice soft, shaking, “I’m so sorry.”

He bowed his head and sighed as he felt her cold, so cold fingers caress his cheek. He leaned into it, aching for it, and then it was gone and she stared into him. He could barely make her out through the thickness of the heat and smoke.

“Find her.”

He took in a shuddering breath and nodded, steeling himself for the journey and then found he didn’t have to.

That’s why he was here. Why they were both here in this insanity. This was his reason. The only reason he stubbornly drew breath.

He lifted his head, his purpose clear and staring him in the face with desperation and expectance. And he’d be more damned than he was already if he didn’t deliver. His strength returned if not tripled and filled him with a fire hot enough to rival hell itself. It almost sent him reeling, the iron resolve that filled him with rage that something would dare attempt to break apart their lives like this.

And god help anyone in his way.

“We’ll be a family again. I promise.”

Footsteps, light and fast, pricked his ears and he ran after them. Myra smiled approvingly but in the roar of fire and in his white hot concentration he didn’t hear her low, deranged chuckle as she suddenly broke apart in a burst of smoke to mingle with that rising from the flames.

Sebastian called out his daughter’s name, following the retreating footsteps. Why was she running away from him?

Maybe she was scared. Well, of course she was. The poor thing was lost in a place like this. He hoped she wouldn’t remember. That it was too much of an experience to be thought of as anything more than a bad, bad dream.

The flames danced around him. It was all he could see; the yellow and orange and red of destruction. He could barely feel them. Adrenaline pumped through him, kept him from cowering from the intense heat that seemed to be coming more from inside him than from the fire engulfing the world around him.

In the corner of his eye he thought he saw movement. The creak of a floor board confirmed it and he turned. A shape stood in the flames, human-shaped. A faint sigh like that of a child was audible over the flames.

“I found you”, he breathed.

The figure bolted.

“Lily, no! Wait!”

Desperate he reached for the retreating figure and felt cloth in his fingers. But just as suddenly he felt pain crack across his face. He stumbled back, dazed, then crashed through a flaming doorway and into the floor. 

He’d had her. He was sure if it. She was there and something had stopped him. He immediately got up, ignoring the blood dripping from his nose as anger took priority. 

“You can’t keep her from me”, he vowed raggedly, his eyes stinging and barely usable.

All he saw were flames, vague shapes confusing him. Cries, a child’s terrified crying, drew him on, incensed him. The groans and shuffling of the damned and his need to silence them kept him moving.

What have they done to her? Why her? Why. Her. It didn’t matter that if it wasn’t her it would have been another hapless child. He didn’t care or try to understand. He only knew it was enough. They’d put him and his family through hell and back and he was absolutely done with all of it.

His mind raged in a storm which, if he’d had to describe it, was made of pure fury and the liberating feeling of not giving any faded semblance of a fuck who or what was in his way of finding Lily. He was becoming lost to it, succumbing all reason to this imperative.

It was all a blur. He was steadfast in his search. Anything that stood up to him he immediately moved to tear down. 

He couldn’t remember leaving the house but the fire made it nearly impossible for him to get his bearings. He had made it out on the streets somehow and even here the fire followed him. And so did those trying to bring him down.

How many had he stopped in their tracks? How many fell before him? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t care. He only needed to break through every single one of them. Fatigue was a vague notion, distant and insignificant.

His actions were automatic. Instinct. He knew he was screaming for Lily, for her whereabouts. He gave in to it. He screamed in fury, unbound, drunk on his own power as he literally ripped several monsters to pieces.

Another creature barged through the flames at him. Without thinking he tore through it and yet there was another one standing still and defiant before him. But then the figure took a few hesitant steps away from him as he advanced. 

Fear radiated from this lone figure. He could see it like heat waves despite the fire. 

“Where is she?”

It was no longer really a question. It was a demand. A death sentence to those who gave the wrong answer or made the wrong move. He moved fast and stood before the figure, picking it up, its frenzied struggling almost making him smile. 

“...astian, listen to m...”

The voice was vaguely familiar but was swept away in the roar of the flames and his own potent anger. The importance of identification was dwarfed by his mission. Probably another of Theodore’s tricks anyway and the thought riled him. Regardless who they pitted him up against, right now no force in the known universe could have taken him off-track in finding his daughter, finding Myra, and getting them the hell out of this place. He’d tear apart reality first. Nothing would stop him until the world drowned in its own messy end.

More came at him and the figure he held escaped his clutch. And then in no time more lay destroyed at his feet. And yet this one still remained, almost reluctant to leave. To escape. He grabbed the figure again and he could barely make out that it was man-shaped, frozen in fear. And it had every right to be.

“Daddy?”

He froze, looking down. In the man-shape’s hands was his radio. And coming from the radio was a distorted but small, scared voice.

“Daddy, where are you?”

He let the man-shape go and it stumbled past his view. He squinted through the smoke stinging his eyes, examining the radio and hearing its soft crackling that he could somehow pick up through the roar of inferno.

“Baby?”

But it was a trick. He heard a woman’s voice scream out through the radio and he saw the man-shape again, panicked and yelling.

“—IT DO IT NOW!”

He could feel his fingers gripping the radio tight enough to hurt, enough that he could feel the hard casing give a little. 

What sick game was this to tease him with the promise of his own lost child? He focused on the man-shape retreating further into the flames. They’d have to completely decimate him before they could pry Sebastian’s fingers out of its windpipe, if it had one. 

He hoped it did. 

His fury was climbing, its intensity making him feel like he was floating on a hot updraft. And he knew right there no pitiful creature in Union, not Mobius, nothing in the entire fucking world could stop him.

Except that sound. 

That piercing squeal that was like claws sinking into his brain. With shock and despair he felt his resolve crack as it erupted from the radio, growing in volume until it out-screamed reality.

He’d heard it before. At Beacon. And afterwards in his dreams. And usually in his dreams he was in Beacon revisiting the trauma that years of therapy or their stupid pills or even all the alcohol would never touch. 

It shattered through the intoxication of his unbridled rage and he felt fear blossom up like a killing frost. The roar of the flames disappeared and that terrible, disorienting noise gripped him tight.

It was in his head. In his veins. Oh god, it was inside him, eating away at him. He reacted physically, as though from a straight shot through the head. The world lurched and immediately the ground slammed into his back as having his very mind ripped apart forced a strangled scream through his clenched teeth.

Everything was blasted apart and all he had left to his name was this agony. All he could do was writhe miserably, ride it out until it decided to stop pounding insanity into him.

When it stopped it didn’t fade gradually. The world screamed back into place like the swing of a mallet. He felt clarity slam into him and he gasped, his lungs taking in smoke-free air. His vision, his mind was muddled but everything was slowly coming back to focus. He could feel the night air chilling his sweat-soaked skin. He concentrated on that; the sensation of damp against him, the scent of rotten and burning flesh surrounding him, the air stinging the raw tissue of his throat as he struggled to breathe.

His whereabouts swam back into something that started to make sense. He found himself staring ahead, his temple pressed into the ground. It was like emerging from a dark tunnel and being smacked in the face with harsh sunlight. 

With a groan he managed to at least lean up on his elbows, bracing himself against the vertigo and he saw someone lying not far from him, moaning and shivering.

“Stefano?”, he breathed and then winced, his throat raw.

The man did nothing to indicate he’d heard him at all but his body, which was curled into a ball, tightened even more. Sebastian struggled to his feet, then the world spun and he stumbled and fell to his knees, the ground cutting into his skin through the cloth of his pants. Being upright was probably not a good idea. 

A sudden shriek of pain made him flinch and he soldiered through his own disorienting discomfort, crawling on his hands and knees towards Stefano who was now kicking convulsively, his hands clutching his face.

“Stefano! What—“

He made it to Stefano’s side and immediately the man’s left hand shot out, searching the air frantically as his right hand remained clamped over his right eye. The man was unfocused, obviously suffering. He looked like he was struggling to find something to hold onto, something that could ground him and bring him back.

“Hey! Stefano! Snap out of it!”, Sebastian said, gripping his shoulders and shaking him weakly.

A series of shallow, ragged whimpers like an animal in pain was all he got in reply. Stefano’s fingers found his shirt front and refused to let go even when Sebastian tried prying them open to figure out what the hell was happening to him. He began to reach for his pack, hoping he’d had a syringe and that it would help.

And then he saw it. His hand froze as Stefano’s fingers shifted and partially uncovered his eye during a particularly violent full-bodied spasm of agony. 

Sebastian had seen Stefano’s usually hidden eye at the safe room, had gotten a good look at it. It was mostly closed, thin webbing of scar tissue fusing most of it shut. It had seemed not to move from what Sebastian could recall when Stefano had been incapacitated by the flood of fragmented recovered memories.

But now.

There was a smoky blue haze rising out of from between the webbing of skin and something was...moving...like the rapid movement of closed eyes in REM sleep but Stefano’s other eye remained open and staring straight up, glazed in agony and fixated on something Sebastian couldn’t see.

“What the fuck?” Sebastian said, transfixed on Stefano’s face.

Stefano suddenly took in a ragged gasp and his good eye suddenly snapped onto Sebastian although there was no hint of recognition or awareness. His fingers tightened on his shirt until Sebastian was sure it would rip. He uttered something nonsensical, grunting and moaning in panic.

Sebastian watched as Stefano’s scarred eyelid ripped open, blood spurting and then trickling from the broken skin. As it snapped open an azure glow blinded Sebastian, making him flinch back. Stefano howled in agony, releasing Sebastian’s shirt to clutch at his eye with both hands, his body arching in response. The glow brightened like a camera flash and Sebastian threw an arm over his face, catching himself from falling onto his back. 

The glow began to die and Sebastian warily lowered his arm, blinking to regain some of his sight. 

“Stefano?”, he asked hesitantly.

There was no answer. When he looked up Theodore stood next to Stefano’s still form. With a growl Sebastian stood up, bracing against the dizziness and reaching for his gun, then stopped, glancing down at the lack of anything gun-shaped in his reach. He suddenly noticed the lack of weight on his back and hips that signaled his weapons, his packs, in fact all of his supplies, were gone.

“Shit.”

Theodore remained silent although his face clearly showed amusement, then he knelt next to Stefano and lifted the man under his shoulders. Stefano’s head fell back listlessly and he let out a weak moan.

“Hey!”, Sebastian called out, starting for them, “Let him go—!”

A wall of flames suddenly separated him from the two and he shielded his face from the heat. He could only watch, helpless, as Theodore pulled Stefano’s arm over his shoulder and held him up against him. Sebastian could still see a shine of blue glint from under Stefano’s bowed head.

The curtain of fire tightened around the pair and then flared up as it dissipated, leaving Sebastian alone on the darkened street. 

“Shit!”

He was met with silence, his own ragged breaths sounding obscenely loud. The street lights began to flicker on weakly. Nice of the man not to leave any of his misshapen monsters in his wake like last time. However he could already hear the usual population of Union begin to stir.

Cautiously Sebastian studied his surroundings, not very happy with being out in the open, and then faint static caught his ear.

The radio lay on the ground, the source of the noise. He grabbed it, glad for its weight in his hands.

“S—fano?—-hear me?”

Sebastian swallowed dryly, then lifted the radio to his lips, keeping an eye out for any danger as he quietly retreated from the street.

“Please...Kidman, tell me that’s you.”

There was a slight hiss before her voice came out and flooded him with relief.

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah. Give me a second. I gotta find a safe place”, he said as he moved, then looked uncertainly at the radio, “And for god’s sake, don’t go anywhere.”

He tucked the radio into the loop of his pants, then scanned the area. His eyes paused on a nearby house and he recalled himself and Stefano going into it together, then realized with unpleasant shock that that was about the extent of his recent memory. With another look over his shoulder he headed in its direction. How did everything go to shit so suddenly? 

He needed answers and now. After checking the house and finding it empty, he moved a few rooms in before feeling confident enough to talk uninterrupted. He settled on a living room that looked like it had seen better days but at least still had furniture. He sank down on a chair at a desk with a pained grunt as the ache in his body suddenly decided to call attention to itself. Ignoring it, he hastily took out the radio.

“Kidman. You there?”

“Jesus, Sebastian, I thought you were fucking...”

She trailed off. He nodded at her unfinished sentence.

“Well, I’m not. I’m here. Now what the fuck is going on?”

“Plenty, apparently. Where’s Stefano?”

He felt a twinge of guilt and sighed, “Oh, so you met, huh?”

“Very briefly. He helped me find you. Is he okay?”

Sebastian grimaced, suddenly feeling restless. He stood and peered around the window sill and through the dirty glass pane. 

“I don’t think so. Theodore has him.”

He explained waking up on the street and witnessing Theodore spirit Stefano away in customary fire and brimstone fashion. 

“There was nothing I could do. As fucking usual.”

“Don’t say that—“

“Well, it’s true!”, Sebastian snapped, shoving away from the window, “I’m no closer to finding Lily and Theodore’s been getting a free pass every single time we meet.”

He took a deep breath and paused, reminding himself to lower his voice, then continued albeit restraining himself.

“Hoffman. Torres. O’Neal. All gone. Don’t get me started on Myra. Maybe Stefano should stay away. Probably end up getting him killed, too.”

He heard Kidman sigh, and he sank down into the chair again, his legs stretched out before him and his head hanging over the back of the chair. It wasn’t comfortable but he felt right then and there he could probably fall asleep. Pass out more likely. He was exhausted in every sense of the word.

“Tell me what happened. Last we talked you were about to confront Theodore. It’s been hours.”

“Tell me about it. I feel like I’ve been running for years.”

He squinted, shutting his eyes and trying to dig around in his head for some semblance of a timeline.

“Well, The Plan’s a no-go. Myra...she’s changed. She’s still there somehow but she’s not...not human. She was there when I was getting mind-fucked by Theodore.”

He told her of being forced to relive Beacon, Theodore using his own traumatic memories against him. 

“I almost...he almost won”, Sebastian continued bitterly, his anger like a slow burn, “But then Myra was there. She...I think she was helping me? It was hard to tell.”

Ruvik’s horrific reincarnation of his sister Laura had had him pinned. He recalled the claws digging into his wrists, his useless struggling as Laura had raised her arm to deal a very fatal blow.

But something had stopped her. At first he had thought it was Ruvik as the figure was clothed in white, a hood hiding their face as they had crossed their arms over Laura’s chest almost possessively. But instead it was some twisted version of Myra. He remembered hearing whispering like dead leaves scraping against pavement and he had felt Laura’s grip on him weaken.

Bewildered with shock and fear, he had watched Laura’s arms fall listlessly at her sides. Myra’s mouth had been pressed against her temple and she hissed and giggled and said things Sebastian couldn’t and decidedly didn’t want to hear.

Smoke had begun trickling up from Laura’s gnarled grimace of a mouth, her black hair obscuring the rest her face. Suddenly Laura’s pale flesh had started to crack and blacken and a terrible shriek had nearly deafened Sebastian but had startled him enough to make him scramble back. 

As he had moved, Myra released Laura. With a sudden roar of flames and another high, wavering scream fire had erupted from Laura’s body. She had fallen, a twitching burning tangle of limbs and hair.

He described as much as he could to Kidman, the horrors tumbling from his mouth.

“Then...then it gets kind of hazy. Everything changed and Theodore was standing in front of me. We were back in his stronghold. Myra was...she was with me. She was holding me up.”

The last he’d seen of her she had been enveloped in an white undulating mass, her hands gently caressing his face. Her eyes had been covered with the same white substance. 

Before he had been able to react Theodore had been behind her, his focus intense as he had unsheathed the dagger from his cane. And then everything had gone black. As hard as he strained to recall the rest the memory stopped there.

“I met Stefano shortly after I woke up. Talked. Sort of. He seems a little weird but he’s up for killing Theodore which is fine by me. At this point I’ll take what I can get. We made it to this house I’m in and that’s really it.”

“...that’s all?”

“Yeah”, Sebastian replied tiredly, his eyes still shut, “I think that’s enough.”

“...Sebastian, there’s no way for you to brace yourself so I’m just gonna come out and say it.”

Frowning, Sebastian slowly straightened up in the chair and looked at the radio. He had a sudden sinking feeling.

“You changed.”

He arched a brow inquiringly, not understanding, “What?”

“You...you turned into one of those things.”

Suddenly his heart beat was loud in his ears. He was aware of a hollow pit in his stomach. His mouth had gone dry.

“No.”

“Yes”, Kidman insisted, “And apparently it wasn’t the first time there. You nearly killed Stefano but he knew you were still in there somehow kind of like how you described Myra. But we brought you back. I knew you’d come back.”

Sebastian shook his head but knew it was possible. He’d seen it happen back at Beacon.

“Jesus...”

“I’ve seen this before. You’ve been in STEM for too long.”

Sebastian let out something that resembled a laugh, “Any amount of time here is too long.”

Her silence made the quiet panic in him lift its head. 

“Well, what am I supposed to do? I can’t leave yet.”

“I know.”

This was almost too much. He’d seen it in his partner, Joseph, in what seemed like an entirely different life altogether. Thinking about it left a bitter taste in Sebastian’s mouth. 

STEM had changed Joseph into one of the many corrupted, haunted people bent of killing them but he’d been able to come back from it. He had described it as instinct, as something he almost didn’t want to resist. Sebastian didn’t feel like wanting to give in. He didn’t want to lose control. The thought terrified him. It didn’t make sense.

“Tell me everything you know. Because I can’t remember shit.”

“I only know what Stefano told me. The first time he met you he said you chased him through one of the warehouses. You were with someone that I now think was Myra going by both of your descriptions. He saw you again at the police station but you were alone. When he met you after Theodore as...you...he didn’t know you were the same guy he’d seen. And then in that house you’re in he saw you change. And Myra was there. He only knew that because you said her name.”

Almost straining, all Sebastian could remember was darkness and waking up feeling like a truck had hit him. He didn’t recall meeting Stefano before seeing him with Theodore, much less chasing him. And he would have definitely remembered if Myra had been with him any other time. It was maddening. He felt like screaming and laughing at the same time so instead he clenched his jaw.

“There’s something else.”

“Oh god, there’s more?”

“You were always calling for Lily. When you chased him the first time he said you seemed to think you were chasing after her and not him. Even in that house, you were hallucinating that she was there with you.”

He set down the radio after noticing how hard his hands were shaking and Kidman continued.

“I think STEM is using your desperation to find her to corrupt you. And since Myra didn’t straight up kill you it sounds like it’s doing the same to her”, she theorized. 

“...that’s not very comforting. What happens when I do find her?”, Sebastian said, his fingers curled into his hair, “What if I...what it I hurt her? If I don’t know what I’m doing then what if I hurt Lily?”

He stood up and nearly threw the radio in frustration. Instead, he leaned over the desk, the palms of his hands against the wood surface. He closed his eyes tight, trying to calm himself. The weight of this new development seemed enough to crush him.

“Fuck. What do I do?”, he asked no one, his voice sounding lost and small. 

“...we’ll figure it out. I think what you should do right now is find Stefano. I know Theodore wants to use him for something. I just don’t know what. Focus on that for now. We do need him. And we can’t leave him in Theodore’s hands.”

Sebastian took a few deep breaths and slowly straightened up.

“Alright. Okay, fine. I owe him that. And maybe he can bring me back again if I...if it happens again.”

“That’s what I’m hoping. Check in with me every now and then. Okay?”

Doing what he always did, Sebastian pushed aside everything else and acted. That was all he could do. Aside from laying down and giving up, there were not many other options.

He moved from the room with customary caution. Climbing a flight of stairs he dismally hoped to find supplies and found something even better. His packs, his weapons, even his crossbow were waiting for him in a small room. They were haphazardly strewn about the floor. He breathed out a sigh of relief and went to gathering them up, the weight of his arsenal and supplies comforting. He must have dropped them before he...

Before you turned into a monster, a voice hissed in his head. He brushed the thought away with a firm shake of his head. No time for that. Time to move. He left the house.

Creeping through the street he used the radio again to track down any sort of signal. After about an hour of dead silence and the occasional kill, desperation started gnawing at him. Taking brief refuge behind some dumpsters in an empty lot, he hailed Kidman on the radio.

“I’m getting nothing”, he said quietly, peeking around to ensure nothing was sneaking up on him.

“I’m glad you called. I’m getting some sort of reading on my end. It’s weak but it looks like it’s at the theatre.”

“Better than nothing.”

Making his way, he was getting unnerved with how uneventful his journey had been. The wandering dead had lessened. He wondered if this was a good thing or a bad thing. Spotting the theatre, he slowed his journey, uneasiness blossoming inside him. There were bodies strewn everywhere. Most looked to be fallen monsters but a few corpses in tactical gear looked somewhat fresh. Something had gone on a killing spree.

He was readying his knife when he heard footsteps across the theater’s empty lot. 

He could see someone walking almost leisurely and the glint of metal caught his eye. He was too far to make out what was happening but squinting he could see another figure, this one backing away from the first. There were two voices, one quiet and another angry, loud. He moved in quietly.

“Keep the fuck away from me!”

“Ah, don’t fret. It’s quite alright to be nervous”, Sebastian heard someone purr, “But you are in good hands, I assure you.”

A flash made Sebastian pause. The first figure was suddenly upon the second, clearing the distance between them impossibly fast and with the strange glow of smoky blue like an aura around him.

The other one, clad in full Mobius tactical gear, staggered back. Sebastian heard a low, chilling laugh and saw the flash of a knife in the gloom.

“Now then, let’s make some art.”

The agent straightened, his arms raised in defense, “No, no wait—!“

Sebastian’s jaw dropped slightly at the speed as the first figure, he could now see was a man, suddenly made a quick swipe sideways with his arm towards the Mobius agent and a bright flash lit up the scene.

The agent was caught in a blue, shimmering haze. Blood was shooting from his throat but instead of painting the ground and his killer red, it flowed slowly and gracefully in an arc like a shower of rubies. His body slowly arched back and Sebastian could see his head was nearly severed but suddenly everything reverted back and the death scene replayed again and again.

Hiding behind a hedge of tall bushes, Sebastian felt his knife in his hand as the man regarded the grisly scene, studying it.

“Perfect”, Sebastian heard him say in awe, “Like a bouquet of roses.”

The man turned and Sebastian gasped as he saw a blue glint on the right side of the man’s face. Stepping into the light of the parking lot lamps, Stefano stood with a peculiar smile on his face.

Without thinking, Sebastian sheathed his knife and stood up, stepping away from his hiding place.

“Stefano?”

He immediately regretted it. Stefano turned slightly and saw him, his head tilting back as though drunk. Obviously Stefano was not himself.

“Sebastian”, he sighed, his arms swaying leisurely at his sides, “I understand now. It’s wonderful. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sebastian took a few cautious steps towards him, feeling his knife heavy in its holder on his hip.

“What...what’ve you done?”

Stefano grinned, gesturing to the perpetually dying Mobius agent behind him.

“Never before have I been able to create such pieces! I don’t have to depend on the limits of reality. It all just comes out unbridled and pure. It’s beautiful!”

They stood before each other now, so close that Sebastian could see the scars peeking from behind Stefano’s hair but one particular scar over the bridge of his nose that hadn’t been noticeable before pulsated unpleasantly. It seemed the scars were growing outwards.

“You killed him”, Sebastian said, “This isn’t you, Stefano. This...this is Theodore’s doing. He’s making you like this—“

“‘Making me?’”, Stefano retorted, his grin fading, “No. This is all me. This is what I’ve always wanted!”

Blue smoke began rising from Stefano’s body and his right eye began to emit a sapphire glow. 

“This is pure creation! It’s what I have strived for, what I’ve suffered for!”, Stefano said, a sort of excited hysteria rising in him, “But no more!”

Suddenly Stefano grimaced, doubling over and gripping the right side of his face with a growl. Sebastian took a step towards him, meaning to steady him, but Stefano straightened, nearly stumbling back.

“Look at you! You’re changing! Just like I did”, Sebastian said angrily, “This is all Theodore! Don’t you remember? He killed your friend to get to you and you’re letting him win!”

Stefano’s good eye widened in shock for a moment before he cried out in pain, dropping his knife as he gripped the right side of his face again, a bluish glow visible through his fingers.

He stood bent forward, panting in exertion. Tremors wracked his body and he moaned raggedly.

“I...I can’t stop it”, he said suddenly, his voice soft. Sebastian had to strain to hear him, “It’s too...it’s all so...”

A shock wave accompanied the bright burst of blue as Stefano suddenly screamed, his back arching to accommodate the intense energy pulsing through him.

“No! NO!”, Stefano screamed, rage twisting his face and aimed at Sebastian. He fumbled for his knife and straightened up, pointing it at him as he shielded his eye, “YOU ONLY WANT THIS FOR YOURSELF! YOU’RE JUST AS SELFISH AS I AM!”

He backed away, his shoulders heaving, then seemed to forcibly collect himself. He took a deep breath then he smiled widely at Sebastian and raised his arms from his sides.

“It’s alright, Sebastian. You’ll see. I’ll make you see.”

Sebastian saw movement in the corner of his eye. The corpses that surrounded them were moving towards each other, pulled by some unseen force. From the look of deranged concentration on Stefano’s face, Sebastian had a good idea of the source.

Corpses and discarded limbs formed a grotesque human shape towering over both of them. The screech of metal sounded and what looked like a giant saw blade formed and attached itself like an arm to the monstrosity forming before them.

“Stefano, no!”, Sebastian cried out, already preparing his shotgun and hoping it would be effective against whatever horrors Stefano was unleashing, “Don’t do this!”

“You will not take this from me”, Stefano vowed, his voice distorted and echoing bizarrely.

Hysterical, drunken laughter in a female voice suddenly rose into the air. Stefano’s creation turned and faced down Sebastian. Several women’s heads joined in a mass with flowing black hair grinned and giggled at the disbelieving terror on Sebastian’s face. It raised its arm and the blade saw that served as its hand roared to life.

“Oh, fuck.”

“It’s beautiful! Can’t you see it staring you in the face?”, he heard Stefano raving as he backed away slowly, the grip on his gun shaky, “And even if your simple mind cannot comprehend it, the least you can do is appreciate it for what it is!”

Stefano laughed darkly, his eyes riveted adoringly on his latest work, “Appreciate the art!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I used Stefano’s little tag line. I refuse to apologize. I thought seeing things from Seb’s POV would be an interesting switch since my stories are all Stefano-based. I’m not sure yet if I’ll keep switching back and forth but I’ll mention it at the chapter beginnings if I do. And though Obscura is my favorite I thought I’d show the Guardian some love, too.


	7. Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, basically:  
> Sebastian: STEFANOOOO  
> Stefano: StefanYES  
> Theodore: Stefanyeesssss  
> Emily: Stefano...  
> Stefano:...Stefanuh-oh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: Tentacles (sort of), forced oral object insertion. Positively absolutely DRIPPING with dramatic angst, character death...again...or is it? (Dun dun DUNNNNN).

“Emily, you're far from home  
And Emily, we'll figure  
If I could figure it out  
We'll both never be afraid  
Emily come home  
It was the last time I saw her alive  
Sometimes you do things you need to do to survive  
Oh please, don't leave me now.”

“Emily (Rough Mix)” by My Chemical Romance  
—-

 

A ruby sheen graced the side of Sebastian’s face courtesy of the Guardian who had swung at him and caused him to collide with the pavement, resulting in a rather nasty looking gash.

It entranced Stefano, his eyes taking everything in a new light. Blood was precious and pure, the embodiment of pain being freed from its flesh prison.

The flesh prison dodging blow after powerful blow continued beseeching him to see reason.

But how could he when there were so many wonders to behold.

“Stefano!”, Sebastian cried out again, staggering back and reloading his vulgar weapon, “I know you can fight this!”

Stefano sighed and shook his head in gentle disdain at Sebastian’s panicked face, then turned languidly and began walking towards the doors to the theatre.

“That may be so”, Stefano called out over his shoulder, his voice somehow audible over the rattling din of the blade saw.

He reached the doors and turned, giving Sebastian a small smile.

“But why on earth would I want to?”

He slipped through the doors, loving that his name was cried out again in such desperation. 

The sounds of the fight faded as the doors shut with a whisper and he grinned at his surroundings.

He had tried out this new ability on a few wandering monstrosities and, though they definitely lacked the crimson color he so loved, there was a certain charm the way the putrid innards fanned through the space. 

He paused and admired a few of his practice works. The one before him was that of a pale female, the black veins signaling sepsis visible through the white skin of her rotted arms and neck. The colors contrasted rather nicely. Her face was one of pure loathing, seemingly unaware that the middle of her forehead had been cut cleanly through. The spoiled black blood veiled over the side of her face with a sickly rainbow sheen.

He didn’t have to be afraid. He didn’t have to depend on anyone anymore. This world with its grotesque inhabitants that had threatened him with insanity now meekly waited for him to sculpt them into something beautiful. Something with meaning. 

It is everything you have ever wanted, a small voice whispered in his head, And is it so much to ask? To have one’s vision become real? To have a voice that sings triumphant over the endless waves of dispassion in this world? Is that really so bad?

“Of course not”, he responded absently, “And why should it be so hard to attain?”

Dreamily he made his way through the theatre smiling at the few pieces he’d been able to create; a monster here, a few stray Mobius agents there.

Finally he pushed open a large set of double doors to the main gallery, a large sprawling room where his photos lined the high walls.

This could be yours, the voice continued caressingly, This is what you’ve always wanted.

“What I deserve”, he corrected the voice.

Over the plush sounds of violins he heard a shout. Strolling to a window he looked down, then pushed it open.

Unfortunately his creation wasn’t fairing very well. Sebastian was stubborn and blind to his art, understanding only meaningless destruction. Stefano peered down at the fight, the figures small and barely discernible in the dark and with the distance. With a dying shriek his art buckled to her knees and Sebastian delivered a final fatal blow with his shotgun.

That wouldn’t do. 

Stefano closed his eyes, feeling the slight but delicious tingle as creation flowed through him. He felt the pull of reality, felt his surroundings shape under his command.

When his eyes opened he was staring down at Sebastian from the sky. The man was covered in a pale light and staring up at him, wonder and terror breaking through the exhaustion in a way Stefano planned to savor.

He shifted his gaze to the strewn gore around the outside of the theatre and he effortlessly delivered a single silent command to the body parts littering the lot.

He watched as another beautiful creature reassembled itself, the fallen blade saw trembling and then fixing itself onto the creature’s arm. Another Guardian rose from the remains of the last, the proverbial phoenix, then giggled as it stalked towards Sebastian once more.

Stefano blinked and he was back in the gallery but in the sky was a single massive camera lens dutifully observing the continuing battle. Impossibly large and lengthy rope-like growths gently swayed from around it, extensions of Stefano himself. He could even feel the gentle night breeze.

With this new creation he could keep an eye on both Sebastian and his work and adjust how he seemed fit. He smiled as he closed the window and turned away.

How beautiful, the voice whispered in hushed awe that made pride swell within Stefano’s chest, Art that rises from its own destruction, never ending.

And yet Stefano paused, closing his eyes to transfer his vision once more to the fight below him. Something insistent yet muted was pawing at him, breaking the veil of euphoria.

“Stefano!”

He wasn’t sure that Sebastian knew he could hear him or not but he was staring up defiantly at the massive lens from which Stefano spied on him.

“Snap out of it! Don’t let him win! Remember why you—“

The Guardian swung at Sebastian, nearly performing a complete amputation of his leg. Sebastian threw himself out of its reach, scrambling to his feet as the blade saw instead decimated a few wooden crates. 

Sebastian fixed the giant camera lens with a glare and Stefano felt his breath hitch slightly.

“Remember why you came here! Theodore killed your friend to get you where he has you right now! Don’t let—“

Sebastian was cut off again as the Guardian bore down upon him with a delirious giggle and the man became absorbed in survival once more.

A little shaken, Stefano stumbled as he refocused on the gallery. His hand hesitantly went to his head, massaging his right temple.

Remember...remember what?

He squeezed his eyes shut at a sharp pain that pierced his head and he sank to his knees with an unsteady gasp.

(Green eyes. Wide and lifeless. And the red that surrounds them.)

No, the voice broke through and banished the discomfort, He’s just like the others. Just like those wanting to silence you. 

Stefano blinked again as though startled out of thought.

Don’t let your talent rot because he doesn’t understand! He refuses to see, the voice continued irresistibly, Right here and now is where you need to be. Your art needs a voice.

He nodded absently, then the smile returned to his lips.

“I can give my art life”, he said slowly as his conviction returned, “And I can share my work with the world.”

He stood shakily, then closed his eyes again, pulling strength and shaping the world around him once more.

A massive figure stood before him, seeming to ripple gently as his fingers stretched towards it with minute, careful movement.

Three long, statuesque legs formed bearing a lean feminine torso that arched as though in ecstasy. It moaned softly as it blossomed into life before him. His breath quickened, his brow furrowed slightly with effort.

Powerful arms suddenly erupted from the torso and shot towards the ceiling, reaching hungrily but gracefully. Sinew and tissue threaded itself into a long elegant neck like that of a bellows from an antique camera. 

A nice touch, the voice commented and he nodded his head in appreciative acknowledgment.

With a swoon Stefano gave into the act of creation, holding back nothing, letting his art flow through him as though possessed. 

A low feminine sigh brought him back. 

A large camera lens was looking at him when his eyes opened once more. He reached out to caress it then paused.

Blue velvety cloth like wings hung from its shoulder blades. He frowned slightly, remembering the pattern, remembering the way his studio lights brought out the cerulean hue from the depth of the color—

(“—marvelous on you, my dear.”

She smiles coyly, her fingers and forearms covered in thin, shimmery silk and she reaches to caress a few roses in a vase on the table beside her, “Of course it does, mio caro. You did pick it out, after all.”

He cannot help but grin at her atrocious attempt at an Italian accent and bows his head in acknowledgment to which she laughs lightly.

Hidden away from the public, from the world—its judgments, its restrictions, its Philistine criticisms—it gives a sense of giddy freedom. Although the wine probably helps.

He reaches for his camera and holds it up, his tone dripping with exaggerated worship, “Now we must immortalize this image of beauty defined.”

She laughs at his melodramatic words, her face slightly flushed with alcohol, then sighs.

“Ah, well, if you must”, she replies waveringly and she places her hand lightly on her hip with a smile—)

He stepped back, confused. His creation stumbled towards him, the weight of its camera head and length of its neck making it unsteady. It gripped the flashbulb on its head, its other hand searching before its long fingers fluttered against the lower hard angle of its head, supporting it—

(—her hands reach for him, her eyes wet with brimming tears making the green all the more vivid. Her beauty has always taken his breath away and he has always marveled that it is more than skin-deep.

But now he moves almost convulsively away from her touch and her hands pull back. He knows he’s reacting like a wounded animal. The stench of medicine and sterile latex and bleached hospital sheets is so foreign and irritating.

“I told you I didn’t want you to see me. Not like this. Why did you come?”

He regrets the bitter anger in his voice immediately and she knows it. The bed dips behind him and he feels the warmth of her back against his. 

“You’re alive, mio caro”, she begins to say.

His lip curls and he is glad she doesn’t see the twist of hate in his face, “There’s no way to continue my work. No point. I may as well have died in that desert! ”

He fights this unfamiliar self-hatred, refusing to allow himself to give in to such a weakness. Normally they can read each other like a book but he feels like shutting her away. As though the darkness festering in his heart and his mind will take over her as well. 

She remains silent, then he stiffens as he feels warm fingers on either side of his face.

Her back arches, her arms reaching over their shoulders and her hands find his temples, caressing his jaw, running soothingly over the soft gauze hiding his injury. 

After the only touch he’s had is that of sterile gloves examining his flawed face, treatments and solutions that bring only pain, and his own hesitant fingers dragging disgusted over the bandages, her touch is light and harmless. Just like the sunlight he’ll never see in that eye again. His breath wavers slightly.

“Mio luce”, he hears her say gently, “You’ve found beauty in the most dismal of places.”

The vision of his left eye blurs and burns and he doesn’t fight it now. 

“This won’t change that. If I know you, you’ll find a way around this. And I’ll always be right there with you.”

“Why? Why not suddenly disappear like the rest of them? Why weigh yourself down?”

Her back presses more firmly against his and her fingers pull his head so it rests against hers.

“I’ll never leave.”

They sit on the hospital bed like this, her fingers still lightly holding his face in her hands as his world blurs—)

The voice was saying something but he mentally batted it away. He was entranced by the vivid green of the lens like an emerald glass. Like—

(“—what have you done!?”)

—her eyes. 

He backed away as his creation staggered towards him. It let out a terrible moan and it made his blood run cold as it formed a single word. A name.

“Sssstfahhhnohhhhh.”

“...no...Emily?”

She is dead and she’s still getting in your way, the voice said, no longer lush and dripping with compliments.

Emily stumbled again like a newborn deer. He retreated a few steps, horror replacing the wonder that had blinded him a few moments ago. How could this...how could this be her? 

“All I’ve done for you, Stefano”, the voice said again and this time it was no longer echoing through his head but from behind Emily’s new misshapen form.

Theodore stepped from behind her, his voice cold, “The abilities I’ve granted you, the chance for you to see what you’re capable of, and you still hold yourself back.”

Again Emily moaned out Stefano’s name, garbled and in such agony. Her knees awkwardly buckled and she fell. In a literal flash of blue Stefano found himself at her side. He reached for her, then paused, his hands hesitantly hovering above her. 

“How is this possible?”, he barely heard himself say, his voice subdued in shock.

Her clawed hands immediately seized his shoulders and pulled him down. He stiffened as the brilliantly green lens stared at him intelligently, a groan ending in a distorted sob. A myriad of emotion flooded him—grief, confusion, anger at what had become of her. 

“What have you done to her?”, Stefano cried angrily as she collapsed against him, nearly putting him on his back. He struggled against her, trying to hold her as best he could. He shot Theodore an accusing, angry look, “Make her right again!”

Her body was so unwieldy all he could do was hold her camera head against his chest as her long neck curled against him. She moaned weakly, her clawed nails digging into his shoulders but he forced away the pain.

“She is the only thing in your way, Stefano”, Theodore continued, looking down at them blankly, his cane clicking against the marble floor as he walked, “You’ve shown what you can do when given free reign, what power you have at your disposal. But this last chain needs to be broken to set you free.”

Stefano struggled to stand but Emily’s grip tightened on his shoulders, her nails now sinking through cloth and flesh. He winced, holding her now large wrists lightly and he felt her relent a little. 

“Why can’t you let her go?”, Theodore said, pacing slowly around them, “Look at how she hinders you. You try to bring your art into existence and she hitches a ride like a parasite.”

“Uhh ahh ohhh”, Emily groaned, seeming to shrink away from Theodore’s words.

“She’s done nothing!”, Stefano shot back at Theodore venomously, “This is your doing! She does not deserve this!”

“Tell yourself that”, Theodore replied calmly, “She was birthed from your mind. In fact...”

Theodore paused and looked at Emily pointedly. Stefano suddenly felt warm flesh in his arms and followed his gaze. The claws that had sunk into his arms were now small, pale, shaking fingers that clung to his jacket. Emily lifted her face, her dark brown hair falling messily across her forehead, her large green eyes wide and searching his face.

“You can keep her this way, Stefano. Keep her young and beautiful just as she had been. You have that in your capacity if you wish. And all that is required of you is to stand beside me.”

“What...what’s going on?”, she managed to say, her voice weak and soft, “Where are we?”

Stefano stared at her helplessly, shock making him dumb and wordless. She stared imploringly at him. 

But he had seen her fall, seen the light fade in her empty eyes, had seen the pool of blood spreading from underneath her lifeless body in what seemed like another lifetime. Theodore knew this. It had to be one of his illusions. Her lying warm and alive in his arms could not be possible.

He shook his head in denial, “No. It’s not right. She’s dead.”

Shock struck her face and she looked at him, confused and hurting. It felt like his heart had been stabbed. He forced himself to look away at Theodore who stood by watching mildly.

“I know what you’re trying to do! You think you can use my own demons against me?!”

He felt a shaky grip tighten on his arm and while his mind screamed at him not to do it he immediately turned to look at her, nearly crying out in shock.

Her pale face was marred with vivid red blisters, black veins networking under her skin and spreading. Groaning she pushed away from him, sitting back unsteadily.

“Stefano...what is this?”

She stared in frantic disbelief at her arms as the blisters and redness erupted along her skin like a seam being ripped open. She cried out in pain, doubling over. He scrambled away from her and he hated that she fell forward and sprawled onto the floor. Her hand reached for him as he retreated.

“Please...Stefano, help me.”

Her voice was changing, had a dark, deep echo to it just as Sebastian’s had when he had turned. 

“No...no!”

Stefano gripped the side of his face as a deep pain erupted from his right eye once more. This was all an illusion. It had to be. All he had to do was break through it. That’s all. He just had to master Theodore’s attempts to intimidate him with his own dark thoughts.

Something clattered at his feet. A long knife, the light tracing along its cruelly twisted edge, lay on the floor.

“If she’s not real, then killing her should be nothing”, Theodore said lightly.

Stefano’s lip curled, hate and anger rising inside him, “No! You will not make me do this!”

Stefano grabbed the knife and focused on Theodore, standing before him in a flash of blue. His arm rose, ready to bury it into Theodore’s face when a low, strangled moan broke his focus. Theodore smiled and looked past him and Stefano looked over his shoulder hesitantly.

Emily was swaying unsteadily on her hands and knees which brought to Stefano’s mind the way Sebastian had rocked back and forth before he had succumbed. Suddenly her spine arched and lengthened, the blue of her dress loudly tearing and she let out a terrible scream.

“You refuse to let her live as she was”, Theodore said accusingly as Stefano turned to face the monster forming before him, “Now put her out of her misery.”

Emily shuddered, whimpering in agony as her shoulders bent back and her arms grew, long and skinless, her fingers growing into sharp claws once more.

“Stop this!”, Stefano yelled desperately at Theodore, “Stop it now!”

“No”, Theodore barked at him, “You stop this. You have the power to end her or make her as she was. Decide, Stefano! Her life is in your hands now.”

Fire flared around Theodore’s figure and swallowed him, leaving Stefano alone with Emily transforming into god knows what.

She towered over him now, her limbs and head twitching with each change. Blue fabric hung in shreds over her raw flesh. With a sickening wet noise another leg seemed to shoot out from her midsection and she groaned again. Her skin tore and snapped to accommodate her growth. Each of her three legs ended in a pointed, malformed foot, bound in satin ribbons.

“Emily?”, Stefano said weakly, staring up at her, “This can’t...it’s impossible...” 

Emily stood still, her back to him.

“Why won’t you help me?”, her voice, although distorted, was heartbreakingly familiar and it made him weak, made his head reel, “You couldn’t save me then. Help me now.”

She gasped, then with a series of cracking and popping noises, she bent backwards. Her dark hair swayed gently against the floor as she stared at him, her face upside down and twisted in agony. Tears were streaming from her eyes and into her hair.

“Help me, please help me, it hurts”, she whimpered at him, “What is happening to me?”

“It’s not real”, Stefano heard himself muttering quietly like a mantra, “Emily is dead. This is not real.”

With a growl he whirled and screamed into the vast room, “You cannot fool me, Theodore! You won’t! I know this...this...”

He trailed off as something rolled on the floor and stopped below him, his eyes drawn to the object and widening in shock.

Emily’s head lay at his feet, her mouth opened and slack, her eyes dim and half-lidded. Dead. He jumped, finding himself against one of the walls, the blue smoke evidence that he had somehow phased away once more.

Across the room the creature that had been Emily staggered towards the head lying on the ground, gingerly picking it up in its clawed hands. Thick, thorny vines dripping a black substance extended and gently floated from the stump of its neck, dark fluid freely pouring over its sleek body already shining with its exposed tissue and muscles.

“Dio mio....”

It held Emily’s head in its claws, its body arched backwards and its three monstrous legs skittering spider-like. Emily’s slackened mouth opened wider and a low, guttural groan came out although her eyes remained sightless and cloudy in death.

“Stefanohhhh.”

It bolted towards him. Stefano barely phased out of the way and stumbled, falling hard onto his side. The monster turned in his direction, letting out another haunting moan of his name. Stefano felt the knife in his hand like a heavy weight. 

He had to fight her. He couldn’t let her exist in this agony...in this monstrous form. Then he shook his head, denying what stood in front of him, madness and confusion picking away at his self-control.

“This isn’t real!”, he screamed frantically, throwing the knife onto the floor.

The creature skittered towards him faster than he could react. Thorny ropes shot towards him from its neck stump, catching the arm he threw before him in an instinctive move to defend himself. The vines tightened, digging their thorns into his skin and pulling him.

It felt very real for an illusion. He struggled as it dragged him towards it. Another vine slithered and wrapped around one of his legs, its barbs digging deep. He fell to the floor as it pulled him.

He couldn’t focus enough to get away. With his free arm he scraped his fingers fruitlessly at the smooth marble floor. The knife suddenly came to view where it had landed. Pulling agonizingly against the vines and the thorns embedded into his flesh, he lunged and reached for the handle, gripping it resolutely.

He turned onto his back, swiping rabidly at the vine holding his arm. The knife slashed through it, its severance releasing thick black fluid from the now ragged end of the vine.

The monster let out a chilling shriek and another vine shot forward to join the one holding his leg, then each tendril started rapidly moving around his limb in opposition of the other, shredding the cloth and then flesh of his leg.

Biting back a scream, Stefano swung at the vines, the knife cutting him free as the monster roared in Emily’s distorted voice.

He phased away, collapsing against a wall and quickly glancing down at his leg. His pant leg was gone from below the knee and shreds of skin and muscle were visible, blood oozing from the wounds. 

Adrenaline lessened the urgency of the injury. He backed away, limping, his knife held out before him. Each time the monster came towards him he phased away. Vines shot towards him, whipping at him as he tried to avoid and defend. But he couldn’t bring himself to attack it. Soon exhaustion was slowing him down. Emily’s dead face burned its image into his mind.

(HEAD NOT RECOVERED)

They never did find her head, did they? Wasn’t it Mobius that had her killed? What if this is where it ended up—?

“No, no”, he said haltingly, battling the thoughts, his teeth gritted as he dragged his injured leg slightly in his sad attempt to run, “It’s not her. It’s not real.”

Vines lashed against his back and thick thorns ripped through his jacket. He let out a pained gasp as they hooked into his flesh and he stumbled to his knees. The thorns pulled insistently at him and he let it take the jacket instead, slipping his arms out of the sleeves. The creature bellowed in rage and shredded the cloth into pieces.

He couldn’t focus anymore. He could feel his strength failing. He could feel his mind splintering. He could barely stand much less use the powers Theodore had unlocked to escape. The creature was wearing him out.

“Don’t you want to live?”

Theodore’s voice boomed around him but he wasn’t sure if it was in his head. This entire world was in his head. But the pain coursing through his ripped flesh and worn lungs told him this make-believe world could kill him.

“Then kill her.”

The creature moved towards him again, holding Emily’s severed head as though in offering. It groaned out his name again, the last syllable drawn out in a terrible, halting moan. 

“Stefahhhnohhh-oh-oh-ohhh...”

“I can’t...”, Stefano said weakly before violently shaking his head, rage flowing through his voice, “I WON’T DO IT! SHE’S ALREADY DEAD! NONE OF THIS IS REAL!”

Resigning to his possibly mad decision, his strength seeming to follow the echo of his scream, he slid down until he was sitting, pressing himself against the wall as the end approached on stilted, unsteady tri-legs. The knife lay at his side a little out of reach.

Slowly vines slithered towards him, whispering their path against the marble floor. Unfazed, muttering denials between each of his now ragged breaths, he could only watch as they gently wrapped around his ankles, his wrists, his waist. They pulled him, their barbs sinking into him and he winced as it forced him to stand before it, to stare into Emily’s lifeless, dull eyes. The burning pain in his leg, in the rips and tears of his skin was just static, just background noise.

The clawed hands suddenly pushed Emily’s face against his. He shut his eyes and moaned, moving his head back and forth, trying to avoid the touch of cold, dead flesh.

The vines tightened their grip and shook him as though to gain back his attention. To make him see. Emily’s face was before him, inches away, and he stared now in disbelieving horror as something began prodding itself out of Emily’s mouth. Her eyelids suddenly fluttered and then shot open wide, her eyes suddenly full of life. They stared at him, startled and creased in pain. He could only return her gaze, defeated.

“I’m sorry, mia caro, I can’t do it”, he said miserably.

She began to say something then retched and a thick vine suddenly slid from her now open mouth like a long tongue, covered in tiny thorns and slick with that black substance. It dripped down Emily’s chin like drool as she stared down at it in dull shock.

“You could have saved her”, Theodore said, his voice almost sorrowful, “You could lived and prospered here.”

The barbed vine reached towards Stefano and he turned his face away again, all that he could do. He grimaced as he felt it touch him, roughly caress the hard line of his jaw, leaving a thin, sticky film.

His eyes tightened as the wet vine traveled up against his cheek and nudged against the corner of his grimacing lips. Its prickling surface suddenly licked across his mouth, roughly scraping against his lips. Immediately he fought to avoid it, pursing his lips tight and turning away with each of its almost gentle prodding. The barbed binds holding him loosened, then slowly strengthened their grip. The thorns felt as though they were lengthening inside him like the sinking of an animals’ fangs and he cried out against the agony.

Emily’s eyes widened and she made a negating gagging noise as the vine thrust itself into his mouth.

Although the thorns were smaller they still ripped up the soft tissue without effort. Blood burst against his tongue and pooled in the space beneath it. Its rancid fluid mixed with his own bloodied saliva and he felt it brim in his mouth and trickle down his chin. He choked, the fluid splattering against his chest and onto Emily’s face.

It was sliding in and out roughly and then it plunged deep, the bloody mess of liquid in his mouth aiding its passage but not lessening the pain. He tried pulling away, his airway compromised and he gagged, desperate for breath, then his teeth convulsively sank into the invading thing.

Before him Emily’s eyes widened and then tightened in pain and immediately the vine retreated, shredding more of his mouth upon its exit.

He collapsed as the vines released him, retching and spitting his own blood and the foul black liquid that had burst from the tendril under his teeth. 

The monster reared back and shrieked angrily, then two of its legs lifted up and slammed Stefano against the wall. The already meager air left his lungs with the fierce impact and he gasped in pain, tears leaking from the agony in his chest.

The thick vine shot towards him and he flinched as it began looping behind his head. He took a last gasping breath before it wound around his neck and then tightened hard. Emily stared into him, her own eyes wide and crazed in fright. 

He wriggled with the loss of air but the two legs pinning him by the shoulders were unrelenting. He could hear and feel his heart beat pounding in his head. The legs suddenly pressed hard into his shoulders with their ribbon-clad ends, sliding him up the wall so his feet barely scraped against the floor. The vine around his neck also pulled, his neck stretching to accommodate its force.

He let out a strangled choking noise, feeling his body failing. All he could see now was Emily’s face, twisted in terror, tears streaming down her cheeks. Gasping uselessly, he reached for her in his mounting delirium, his still-gloved fingers clumsily finding her face and shakily wiping the wetness on her cheek with his thumb. Her eyes creased again but this time at the gentle gesture. He would have smiled if he could have. The world began to dim in red and black. 

There was a jolt that shook him hard. The pressure on his neck left, as did the legs holding him up. The vines snakes away, the thorns retracting from his flesh and he groaned at the sensations. 

He crumpled to the floor, gasping, his body convulsing with effort as he sucked in the harsh air against the injuries in his mouth and throat. Coughing hard and touching his neck gingerly, he struggled to his knees and as his vision stopped swimming he saw on the floor a black puddle of fluid growing before him. Dazed, he looked up.

A long thin blade was sticking out of the monster’s chest, black streaming out in rivulets and adding to the mess spreading on the floor. It screamed and he could see Emily’s eyes wide in shock and pain, then it fell with a sick, wet thud. The claws released Emily’s head and it rolled and settled once more at his feet. He stared down at it.

Theodore stood behind the fallen creature, withdrawing the blade and inserting it into the hidden sheath of his cane.

“A minor set-back”, Theodore said with a disappointed sigh, “But a lesson is to be learned from all this.”

Stefano continued staring mutely at Emily’s head lying near the spreading pool of black coming from the fallen monster’s neck. The thick vine-like tongue was gone. Her mouth opened and closed uselessly, her eyes once more riveted upon him. Her lips began shaping words between the involuntary attempts at breath. His brow furrowed slightly, then relaxed as he understood.

Help me. Help me. Help me.

“Alright, mia bella.”

Kill me. Kill me. Kill me.

“Alright.”

Both requests had the same end anyway.

The knife lay gleaming next to him. He numbly reached for it, his fingers closing slowly around the handle. He struggled to sit up, then gently reached and pulled Emily’s head into his lap. Her dark hair fell gracefully and spread over his legs like a descending curtain.

“It’s alright.”

She stared at him, her mouth only jerking slightly now. Her eyes pleading.

“I know, cherub”, he whispered, his throat still so sore, “I know.”

He smiled weakly, lifting her and pressing his lips gently to her forehead. She stared at him, then lightly closed her eyes. He nodded as he hugged her to his chest.

“It’s over now. Sleep.”

He did not close his eyes. He owed it to her to witness what he had to do. He stared blankly as he plunged the knife hard into the top of her head. He felt her skull crack and give way and he pushed harder until the handle was flush against her hair.

“Sleep now.”

He continued holding her tightly, memories of when she would bury her face against his chest with his arms secure around her teasing him and unraveling him. He felt the muscles of her face twitch for a few more moments, then finally still.

“Just sleep, mia bella.”

He was barely aware of Theodore kneeling in front of him. Black ash began rising up into the air as though in a gentle breeze. He felt the weight he held against him give and lessen and finally all he held in his gloved hands was the knife, sullied and black. It clattered onto the floor between his legs.

“You have seen such sights, Stefano”, Theodore was saying soothingly, “Such horror. But I can deliver you from them...just as I can make you suffer them.”

Stefano nodded absently, picking up the knife and gently wiping away the fluid from its slick surface. He saw his reflection in its sheen. His right eye was dull and black, lidless.

“If you stand with me, if you give yourself to me, I can make sure you only see beauty forever. Free from fear. Free from pain.”

Stefano smiled lightly, then let out a rough chuckle that pained him, “Such a declaration you make.”

“These are not just pretty words and empty promises.”

“I’m aware.”

Stefano slowly got to his knees. The knife lay heavy in his open palms like an offering as he looked up at him.

“You say you can save me from the world and its atrocities.”

Theodore smiled reassuringly, helping Stefano to his feet, “No. I know I can.”

“And I can stay here. Powerful. Free.”

“Yes.”

Stefano sighed, playing with the knife and smiling as the light caressed its blade.

“Free in this world you have created. Is this what you call freedom?”

The smile lessened a little on Theodore’s lips but he continued, “The world out there has been cruel to you. It only promises pain. I promise you life—“

“Pain is a part of real life”, Stefano interrupted although his voice was still quiet, “You do not offer me freedom. You offer only delusions descending into madness. No matter how real they may appear.”

“She was not all a delusion, my friend.”

Stefano paused, then nodded, his smile thin, “No, perhaps not. But it was a delusion to think I could change what was done.”

“What...what difference would it make if you were ignorant to the truth? Why torture yourself?”, Theodore said, faltering slightly as Stefano’s fingers suddenly tightened on the knife’s handle, “I can protect you from—“

He was cut short by a laugh as Stefano shook his head, a hand pressed against his right eye slightly obscuring a blue glow.

“Protect me. Free me. Save me”, he said mockingly, “And only if I surrender everything to be in your service.”

Theodore stepped back as Stefano advanced towards him. He whirled away at a flash of blue light but his arm was caught in the glare and froze, its movement slowed. He glared at Stefano in righteous disbelief.

“You dare use these gifts against me?”

He caught Stefano’s arm as it struck, struggling to ward off the knife he held, surprise a delight for Stefano to see paint his features.

“You could have had everything, Stefano!”, he said angrily, managing to push him away as his arm became unrestrained, “I would have given you the world!”

“No!”, Stefano suddenly screamed, anger blazing high like the blue smoke rising from his body, “You would have trapped me in YOUR world, your cage, to live blind and deaf to your pretty lies!”

Pain acted like a motivator now. Stefano lunged at him, throwing him off-balance and Stefano felt a thrill to see him fall to his knees.

“What...what do you think you are doing?!”

Stefano smiled dreamily, then raised his arm, the knife gleaming bright against the light. 

“I’m giving you my answer.”

With an air of finality he brought the knife down hard, squeezing his eyes shut against the strength of the blow. He felt flesh give, felt the blade sink haltingly into muscle.

A soft, strangled cry made his eyes snap open. Already he could feel there was something terribly, terribly wrong.

With a start he recognized his apartment, the bright lighting, sparse furniture out-numbered by lamps and backdrops for his work. 

He saw he was kneeling up on his couch, a dark red leather piece, his arm pressed into the seat cushion firmly. 

And he could see Emily staring up at him, her eyes wide with surprise and confusion.

“Stefano...?”

The handle of an ornate knife was gripped in his fist, his muscles tensed and pushing down into the junction of her neck and shoulder.

“No...”

She gasped, her shaking fingers curled into the front of his shirt. Her blue dress was darkening from the wound, the stain spreading steadily.

“No...no no...”

She began sliding off the couch, her legs pinned by his own weakly kicking and pushing. She was trying to get away from him, her eyes wide and searching for escape.

“Oh, god.”

He slipped off the couch and gathered her in his arms even as she weakly pushed against him, her soft whimpering filling he silence. He frantically stared around, looking for some reason, some excuse as to why he had done this.

“Please, Emily, I—“

“Stefano?”, she said softly, “Why...?”

Her head fell back and blood bubbled up from where the knife entered her. Her eyes, the green shimmering as tears spilled from them, went out of focus. Her body went slack in his arms.

“No!”, Stefano cried, supporting her head, “I’m...I’m sorry! It wasn’t supposed to be you!”

His hands grew red and slippery with blood as it pumped steadily from the wound and then the flow slowed.

“Emily...don’t...”, he said softly, uselessly, “Don’t leave me again.”

He crushed her against him, blood soaking into his shirt and pants, his eyes wide and frantic, his sight obstructed by her soft hair as he held the body for a few moments.

“How many times”, he finally said, his quiet voice shaking slightly, “How many times must you make me see this?”

A deep sigh floated from behind him. 

“As many times as it takes”, Theodore replied tiredly, “And it’s really up to you, isn’t it?”

Stefano shut his eyes tightly, waiting for the illusion to end, for the dead weight in his arms to dissipate once more.

A hot wind began to swirl around him. His skin felt pelted as though by grains of sand. Shouting, dying screams, gunfire erupted around him. 

“Remember this, Stefano. You gave me your answer and you must suffer for it. But I can be merciful.”

Unknowingly Stefano whimpered and held Emily’s body tighter against him like a child with a blanket. He focused on his breathing, counting each inhale and exhale until the auditory hallucinations passed and silence resumed.

He opened his eyes reluctantly, dreading what he’d see. 

The surroundings had changed again. The room was dim, dilapidated, but he could see from the rows of seats that they were still in the theatre. No apartment, no desert sand, no violins or marble floors to greet him. Instead, exhaustion and pain welcomed him back.

He looked down at a gasp of pain, then shock flooded through him. 

He was still holding someone.

“Stefano?”

Sebastian stared up at him, his eyes glazed in agony. Bunched in Stefano’s fingers was the gray of Sebastian’s shirt, a red stain steadily spreading on it.

“Sebastian?”

His eyes flickered to the side of Sebastian’s grimacing face, to the source of his pain. Deep in Sebastian’s shoulder and held tightly in Stefano’s shaking grip was a knife.  
—-

“So shut your eyes, kiss me goodbye, and sleep.”  
“Sleep” by My Chemical Romance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work has been kicking my ass so this was long-delayed even tho I was eagerly poking at it for nearly three weeks. As you can tell I like using dialogue from the game, changed as needed. I pretty much have the whole story planned out (sort of) but things like impromptu tentacles and horrible angst pop up. I probably made more than three versions of this chapter before feeling remotely satisfied. Stefano seems to panic when losing a battle so I tried to use that. Also a little background on his and Emily’s past.  
> Sorry about the tentacle. It was very unplanned.


	8. Tether

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He had been completely unprepared for the effects of his mind laid so bare, so vulnerable. All his demons were before him now.  
> They all came out to ask him: what was the point?  
> What was the fucking point of going on?”
> 
> Stefano’s mind is hanging on by a thread. That thread’s name is Sebastian. Hopefully he won’t break either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE NEW WARNINGS: Hints at mental/emotional child abuse/neglect, suggestions of possible prostitution/sugar daddy/momma type situations (kind of??), some sexual content (nothing too graphic tho).

“Yeah, I got some scars locked up inside.  
At night I curl up to them and hide.  
I feel the blood behind my face.  
It’s cold as hell.  
I’m cold as hell.  
This world is broke.  
Aren’t I?”

“I Don’t Know Much But I Know I Loathe You” by Death Spells

 

 

The monster made sure to let out a slurring maniacal laugh that Sebastian was sure he’d never forget as it finally died.

“Stay...down”, he growled tiredly at the mass of finally inanimate limbs.

Limping, he managed to make it to the doors Stefano had gone through. The regular citizens of Union were drawing closer to where the sounds of the fighting had been and he wasn’t feeling very social at the moment.

He shouldered the door open, immediately falling to his knees with a groan, his hand gripping his left side. Unfazed, he drew his arm back to see the bright red now painting his palm. In fact, his body took this opportunity to point out every single injury he’d just sustained as opposed to just letting him rest.

Staggering to his feet, he made his way through the darkened building and up the stairs into an alcove that looked to be free of immediate danger. 

What looked to be Stefano’s work greeted him at random—mainly unfortunate Unionites but there were a few in Mobius tactical gear. He shook his head at their frozen death throes. They’d been thrust into a situation nothing could have prepared them for but Sebastian doubted he’d shed a tear at their fate.

Sitting heavily on the floor, he took his pack off and gently shook out its contents before sweeping his flashlight over the meager items.

His ammunition was pitiful. He’d already known that. The biggest concern was the lack of the strange health serum he seemed to go through like Kleenex. Among a few bullets and shells was a short metal pipe and other bits of scrap. 

He suddenly had the uncomfortable sensation of cooling wetness against his left side and he aimed the light where the pain was the worst, then sighed as heavily as his body allowed, wincing.

The blood stain was definitely spreading. He was already starting to feel faint. On top of all that he was exhausted and hadn’t realized how injured he was until now. 

He wouldn’t be able to reach a safe house. Not in his state. Besides, the thought of Stefano in Theodore’s hands made the situation urgent. Hopefully he’d stumble across some sort of supply.

He tilted his head back against the wall, staring blankly at the night sky through some glass windows on the ceiling, then his eyes widened.

The giant lens that had hung in the night sky had gone dark. He was sure it had been another of Stefano’s—its bright blue gleam and the fact that it had resurrected that multi-headed laughing nightmare he had put everything into defeating were dead giveaways.

But now it hung like a broken stage light, the extensions that had been like grotesque root growth gone. 

“Stefano”, he said absently, then sighed again, “Shit.”

A sudden shout caught his attention and his hand immediately went to his holstered gun. It had come from a well-lit set of ornate double doors that absolutely screamed “trap.” A spew of rapid-fire words, hysteria apparent even as it was muffled, also sounded from behind the doors. The words were not in English but he had a pretty good idea who it was. Hastily, he swept everything back into his pack.

Quietly getting to his feet, he made his way to the doors, whomever spoke from within becoming more and more panicked.

He recalled Stefano outside the theatre struggling with himself before Theodore’s corruption had taken over. He was still in there somewhere. If Stefano had been able to pull Sebastian out of his own monstrous state maybe Sebastian could do the same. 

Hopefully. 

His dwindling supplies did nothing to deter him, as usual, and with a last look around he pushed the doors open, drawing his gun. 

It was a theatre auditorium, the stage brightly lit enough that he had to adjust to the light. 

“If you’ve come for Stefano I’m afraid he’s beyond your reach.”

Theodore’s voice boomed around him, setting him instantly on edge but the priest was nowhere to be seen. Sebastian couldn’t tell if it had come from the room or inside his head. Which was very worrisome.

“Where is he?”, Sebastian yelled threateningly, “What have you done to him?”

His own voice echoed throughout the room and Theodore’s responding chuckle made him grit his teeth, tighten his grip on the gun.

“He made a...regrettable choice. I’m giving him a chance to see the error of his ways.”

“He has nothing to do with this!”, Sebastian snapped, eyes searching for his target, “He’s just a victim who’s sick of taking all this bullshit. Leave him out of it!”

“And why would I do that? So he can join you on another failure of a mission?”

The seats were red lumps in the gloom, the stage before him looking almost pristine in the glare of the spot lights. He still saw no visual signs of Theodore or Stefano despite the sounds that had drawn him there in the first place.

“What did you gain from Beacon?”, Theodore continued, “The end of your livelihood. A broken mind. The view of the bottom of countless empty bottles.”

Sebastian refused to let the words get to him, forcing his jaw shut as though that would control his anger.

“You even lost your partner.”

“Shut up!”, Sebastian snapped, “I know what you’re trying to do! It won’t work!”

“Has Stefano noticed what happens to those who orbit around you?”

“I know he wants you dead and I’m all for it.”

“Perhaps. But he’s seen what I am capable of and more. And you’ve seen the power I can bestow.”

“Bestow?”, Sebastian repeated mockingly “You mean download? Maybe some line in code you can only control in this computer simulation. And for a man of the cloth you talk pretty highly of yourself.”

“What is there to lose?”, Theodore continued unperturbed, “Don’t you realize this is the future?”

“Yeah, in your deluded lunatic head. Now where is Stefano?”

“Hmm. What makes you think Stefano would set aside his own pain for yours?”

Sebastian paused, looking around at a shift in the air. A sudden shimmering image appeared: Stefano crouching over the body of a woman, his head hung down in despair. Sebastian growled as it disappeared with the distorted echo of a desperate moan.

“You sick bastard. You get off on this? On making people relive their lowest points?”

“Why not leave him in peace? Let him come to his decision—he can wallow in pain as you have or he can have life with one he held dear. A life he can control and be free to create with my blessing. He’s yet to decide.”

“If he’s not an idiot he’d pick the one where he’s not wasting away in a world of your illusions.”

“Let him go. Why make him suffer? Is it the loneliness? Is that why you insist on dragging him down with you?”

Sebastian had reached the first front seats, peering among the darkened rows for signs of anything.

“Just like Myra. Just like Joseph. And you’ve even failed Lily.”

Shaking his head slightly, Sebastian fought the overwhelming desire to retaliate, to give in to the angry fire Theodore was stoking inside him.

“You were given a second chance to save your own daughter whom you were so sure was dead. No one gets that. And you failed.”

Sebastian tried shutting him out, shutting out the way his words wormed smoothly into his brain. 

“There is a reason people leave you, Sebastian. Maybe you should face that before you even consider taking me on.”

Sebastian glared hard at the floor, trembling with rage, fighting the urge to fall to his knees and scream at the painfully true words. 

But it wasn’t real. It was Theodore’s serpent tongue and his overpowering influence in STEM that made it sound like truth.

Wasn’t it?

Fire suddenly erupted around him and in the heart of it stood Theodore, his arms lowered, his palms up, posing like a twisted saint.

Sebastian raised the gun and aimed at Theodore’s growing smile. 

“Of course. Use your brute force and intimidation once more. It’s helped you so much in the past.”

The shot rang loud and hit its mark but simply passed through Theodore’s image, making it waver slightly.

“No more running! No more games!”, Sebastian roared, furious with himself that he’d actually believed Theodore would show himself and at the wasted bullet, “Crawl out from whatever hole you’ve slithered into and face me!”

Theodore sighed, “You’re a broken record, Sebastian. Doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past forever.”

Before Sebastian could even think to respond the heat dissipated with a loud bang and a blast of blue smoke. Sebastian barely caught Stefano’s raised arm as he barreled through the haze, the curvy edge of a large knife flashing towards him.

The knife managed to slice at Sebastian’s shoulder but he managed to use Stefano’s momentum against him and they both tumbled to the floor. The gun flew out of his grasp into the rows of seats with a clatter. 

Sebastian hit the ground hard, the back of his head bouncing up. Immediately Stefano was above him and behind the knife pointed at his neck. His right eye gleamed a brilliant blue. Sebastian caught his arm but his muscles were strained, shaking, and the tip of the knife began to slowly press into the junction of his neck and shoulder.

“Stefano—!”

“I know, cherub. I know.”

He growled as Stefano put all his weight into it and the knife pierced him, Stefano’s face frighteningly blank despite his strength. The carpeted theatre floor was rough against Sebastian’s back, the soft strands of Stefano’s dark hair brushing against his face as the blade sank in another inch.

“Stop! S-snap OUT OF IT!”

Sebastian tried to push him off and cursed as Stefano curled an arm around his neck while fisting the knife and pushing it deeper. In the corner of his eye Sebastian could see its gleaming length slowly disappear into his shoulder. Wet warmth and pain like fire began blooming around the wound and spreading.

This was the beginning of the end. His body was so worn out and the thought of giving up was starting to look appealing. Desperate, Sebastian grabbed Stefano around the waist and managed to wrench them both up so they were standing. He staggered and his back hit the base of the stage, not sure what his strategy was, the pain overriding everything. He felt Stefano’s arm tighten and he gasped raggedly as the knife plunged deeper.

“It’s over now”, he heard Stefano croon into his ear gently even as he groaned against the burning entry of the knife, “Sleep.”

“St-Stefano”, Sebastian moaned desperately, his own voice beginning to slur, “Please—“

“Sleep now.”

The fight was fading. His grip from around Stefano’s waist slackened, his breath rough as pink-tinged spittle formed around the corner of his lips. 

He sank to his knees, Stefano following him, and he felt the knife slide haltingly and finally into him to the hilt.

“Just sleep, mia bella.”

Gasping, Sebastian clung to Stefano’s shoulders. Blood trickled steadily out of the wound. His body went lax and the world went black.

When Sebastian came to Stefano was pulling away, letting him rest in the crook of his arm, his left eye wide, dazed, the other eye now dark.

Sebastian was suddenly heavy in Stefano’s arms, the pull of his weight shaking Stefano out of his disoriented state.

His hands trembled, his now-black gloved fingers tightly fisting the grey cloth of Sebastian’s shirt and the solid handle of the knife. 

He was suddenly aware of the smell of blood and gunpowder and sweat from Sebastian’s body. Even the darkening stain slowly spreading through the cloth was sort of grounding. Absently he watched the grey disappear into a darker reddened hue as his mind tried to come to terms that he had just sunk a very long blade into Sebastian’s neck.

He gasped as his vision blurred, the distorted swell of violins suddenly blasting through his head. Then a groan and the halting stutter of his name floated up from right below him, pulling him back once more. 

“Sebastian?”, he replied, staring at him as though he would disappear if he blinked too hard.

Sebastian groaned, then reached a hand up and pawed weakly at the handle of the knife before his fingers closed over it resolutely.

Even with a weak tug Sebastian screamed, his body arching in Stefano’s arms. Stefano tried to hold on to him, firmly removing his hand from the knife.

“....have to...have to...”

Stefano drew back at the words and stared into Sebastian’s anguished face, still doubting the warm, solid weight of Sebastian in his arms.

“...Lily...need to—“

Stubbornly Sebastian grabbed at the knife handle again, appearing to brace himself to pull, his teeth gritted and his eyes cinched shut. Stefano immediately caught his wrist and easily moved it away.

Sebastian growled weakly, pushing clumsily at Stefano’s chest, “...let go...have to find Lily—“

“You’ll bleed out”, Stefano said bluntly, brushing off the feeble attempts to push at him, “Stop moving—“

“No...have to find—“

“Lily”, Stefano suddenly said sharply, cutting him off, “Will not benefit much from your bloodless corpse. Stop. Moving.”

His voice rang loud through the empty theatre, startling himself a little. Sebastian glared at him, then almost sullenly dropped his arms to his sides. Stefano breathed in deep, his irritation oddly making him feel more like himself.

“Alright”, Stefano said, then paused and said it again carefully, feeling the rawness in his throat and noting the slight rasping of his voice, “Alright.”

Sebastian growled again, eyeing the handle of the knife in his periphery, then winced and Stefano watched the muscles of his neck tense and strain around it. 

“Fuck”, Sebastian said faintly, pain making him grimace and restlessly squirm.

Stefano nodded absently, then shook his head as though he were just waking up. It was difficult not to continue floating in shock. He focused instead on Sebastian and the knife handle rising and falling with his shallow breaths.

He shifted Sebastian carefully so he was leaning heavily against his chest, adjusting his movements based on the severity of the protesting noises Sebastian tried to stifle, then peered at the blood slick around the metal blade.

“We can’t remove it. Not yet”, Stefano muttered more to himself, “You’ll bleed out. We need to find—“

Sebastian shook his head, trying to sit up, “We can’t...can’t stay here...Theodore—“

Stefano froze as the theatre suddenly flickered like static and went black. His arms were empty. Faint music rose eerily behind him and then Theodore’s hands were heavy on his shoulders.

“It’s not too late”, that hated voice echoed around him, sounding as though thought rather than spoken.

Stefano shut his eye despite the darkness, willing the illusion away.

“We can prosper here, Stefano”, Emily said in a distorted whisper and he opened his eye and looked down at her.

Her clouded eyes smiled back up at him in a way her gaping mouth could not.

Stefano moaned and tried to turn away but skinless clawed hands smoothed over his jaw and gently held him in place. Cold, stiff lips pressed lightly against his cheek.

“It’s not too late”, Theodore said again, his voice still echoing bizarrely.

The spot light blared at him like a train in a tunnel. He flinched away from it and felt the ground give under his feet. He looked down and panic rose at a white substance climbing up his legs.

“...have to get out of here...”

Sebastian’s voice was right next to him and he turned his head towards the source but saw nothing. Around him were faces frozen into screams barely visible under the surface of white. Random items floated past, bobbing gently—roses, a child’s tricycle, a small camera, a knitted doll, a Mobius protective helmet with dead eyes behind the faceplate.

He stumbled, his legs struggling through the thickening white liquid as it pulled him down. It was alive, twining around his arms and around his neck and finally sucking him under. He took a deep breath as it enveloped his face. He thrust a hand towards the surface and it broke through, but he could feel himself sinking deeper. 

Underneath he could see up as though the substance were cloudy water. His lungs were going to burst. He kicked his legs uselessly, his body twisting in his fight to break free. 

His fingers slipped under.

The strange liquid began gaining solidity and he fought with everything to move, his eye still open wide. A figure moved over him, standing above him. He stared at it with dying hope until something broke through the wavering surface. 

It was an outstretched hand. A plain gold band was on the ring finger. It reached downward, fingers fluttering, searching.

Agonizingly slow Stefano reached for it, his own fingers brushing against it maddeningly until it grabbed his wrist and pulled. 

Breaking through the surface, Stefano gasped deeply for breath. The white liquid bore him up now and then he was lying on the ground, his lungs greedy for air.

“Stefano...”

Dazed, Stefano turned and saw Sebastian lying next to him, staring at him with agony etched on his face.

“You...you can’t let him get to you.”

The world lurched forward and Stefano was stumbling, finding himself upright. Dark red curtains flowed as though caught in a gentle breeze.

Violin music echoed behind him and his periphery blurred again. The music became warped, screeching and distorted. He cried out, his hands gripping this sides of his head. The sound was ripping into his brain and he could barely stand it. 

Something was tugging at his pant leg. Sebastian was at his feet, staring up at him.

“Please...help me....have to...have to save Lily.”

Sebastian’s words had a clear, crisp quality. Stefano focused on it. Focused on the wet, ragged gasps and the grunts of agony, even the slow drag of clothing as Sebastian pulled himself up to his hands and knees, the knife handle jutting out of his shoulder.

“Can’t...do this on my own...please...”

The raw honesty in his pain broke through solid and stable. And it was something Stefano could cling to.

“We...have to...get out.”

The sandstorm tore at his back. Shrapnel blew past him and soldiers and civilians died. He heard his own voice laughing darkly as Emily screamed and screamed. 

Stefano shut his eye, continuing to concentrate on Sebastian now gripping his arm shakily, pulling at him. Maintaining his focus was like trying to hold onto a kite in a gale.

“Don’t leave me.”

He wasn’t sure if Sebastian said it aloud. He didn’t even know if he himself were the one who said it. Sebastian’s grip suddenly faltered and Stefano reached out towards him, wanting to follow. But then Theodore’s hands tightened on his shoulders and tried to still him.

“There is only pain on that path, Stefano.”

But Stefano ignored the phantom pressure trying to hold him back. The strength of the illusions lessened as he walked through the flickering ruins of his apartment, men in Mobius gear running past and through him like phantoms. He walked over the still, translucent bodies in the sand and then through the blood flowing like a stream across the cracking marble floor.

“Sebastian, don’t leave me.”

He said each word resolutely, making sure to focus on his own tongue and teeth forming each syllable. 

“You are making a mistake”, Theodore said darkly, his hands slipping slowly from Stefano’s shoulders like retreating serpents, “And you will regret it.”

Theodore’s voice was at his ear but fading, “You have my word on that.”

Stefano flinched away and shook his head, “I’ve made my choice.”

Sebastian’s screams suddenly shattered the world. Light barreled towards Stefano like a monstrous wave and there was no time to move as it swallowed him.

He opened his eye. He felt cold floor against the side of his face. With a gasp he looked up, bewildered. The double doors were creaking closed. He caught the sight of the darkened stage, the only source of light being the small bulbs fringing the rows of seats. Large smears of blood stood out against the old white paint near the door’s ornate handles and on the shiny floor. He was outside of the auditorium.

And nearby Sebastian was sprawled out face-down.

“...please...have to...”, Sebastian was whispering, his fingers still clutching weakly at Stefano’s arm.

Blood pooled steadily beneath him and in his other hand was the knife he’d finally managed to pull out. 

“Idiota!”, Stefano snapped, kneeling next to him and shoving him onto his back, pressing the heel of his hand against the flow of blood. His focus instinctively latched onto the blood escaping Sebastian’s body.

Sebastian winced and focused blearily at him, then sank his head back against the floor with a weak moan.

“I told you you’d bleed out! 

Looking around, then looking down at himself, Stefano ripped his sleeve off easily as his shirt was already shredded. Taking the pressure off as little as possible he stuffed the cloth into the wound of Sebastian’s shoulder, pushed down against the wound, then tore his other sleeve off. 

“...gotta...save...Lily”

“Yes, very noble but first save your strength”, Stefano muttered, pulling out Sebastian’s pack from under him and searching through it with his free hand, “And focus on not bleeding.”

Working one-handed was slow in his panic but he had to stop the bleeding. Impatiently, he upended the pack and, among an assortment of bullets and scrap metal, what looked like a small metal pipe clanged onto the floor. He grabbed it, then used it to form a tourniquet with his other torn sleeve around Sebastian’s shoulder over the still-bleeding wound. Sebastian groaned as Stefano tightened it and tied it in place.

“Can’t stay here”, Sebastian slurred deliriously, his brows knitted and eyes cinched shut.

Stefano observed the red bleed into the white cloth of the tourniquet but not soak it through. He sighed shakily, then caught sight of the radio hooked to Sebastian’s belt. He pulled it free and tuned into Kidman’s frequency, frowning when he heard nothing but garbled static.

“Kidman? Are you there? I need...we need help.”

Nothing. He fiddled with different frequencies, his desperation leaking into his voice more and more as his calls went unanswered. He fought the urge to throw the useless thing against the wall and instead hissed breath in and out slowly, his grip still tight and shaky on the radio.

They couldn’t stay out in the open like this. Perhaps the theatre would shelter them from the monsters as none had come by but neither of them were in any shape to face Theodore again.

Stefano stood up, flinching at putting weight on his somewhat shredded leg. He’d nearly forgotten it. He suddenly realized how exhausted he was. 

He could rest when they returned to the safe house. Or when he was dead. Whichever came first. Though right now one looked definitely more appealing than the other.

He knelt down before Sebastian and pulled him by his uninjured arm so he was sitting up, then crouched next to him and slung Sebastian’s listless arm around his shoulder. 

Pain suddenly sparked in his leg as soon as he tried standing with Sebastian’s weight. Clenching his teeth, he managed to stand straight for only a moment before he collapsed, barely able to lower Sebastian to the floor without full-on dropping him. Sebastian lay on his side now, moaning softly for a moment at the change in position.

Cursing, Stefano stood and leaned against the wall, glaring at the wound on his leg. He was barely in any shape to walk, let alone drag another body out of here. Next to Sebastian the radio suddenly squealed to life. Stefano practically dove for it, his knee buckling against the pain, but then he had the crackling radio in his hands.

“Kidman? Kidman, answer me.”

“—fano?—alive?”

He clutched the radio so tightly it hurt.

“Sebastian. He’s injured. I stopped the bleeding but I can’t carry him back to the safe house. I tried. But if Theodore returns we won’t be...we...can’t...”

In the middle of his near-rambling he had looked over to Sebastian again and trailed off. There was another large patch of blood but this one spanned the left side of his torso, hidden as Sebastian had been on his back. The room’s lighting revealed the bleeding as fresh, his shirt glistening slightly.

“Cazzo....”

Crawling over to Sebastian’s side with the radio against his chest, he noticed a rip in the shirt and he carefully peeled up the red-soaked cloth and winced.

A deep gash stretched across his ribs. Blood oozed from it. A deep purple, almost black color surrounded the wound. Within the shredded flesh over his ribcage was something shiny and white that looked suspiciously like bone.

“—efano, are you—there?”

“Merda, he’s still bleeding”, Stefano said numbly, looking around for something to stop the flow. He put the radio down and began untucking his shirt to use for that purpose.

“Do—-have that syringe you found?”

Pausing, Stefano’s hand slipped automatically to his hip and felt the bag he’d tied around his waist. 

“I...yes, I think so.”

He strained to hear her over the static.

“Just jab it in him—-extent of—injuries it should—“

Wasting no time, Stefano fished it out, uncapped it with his teeth, and stabbed it into Sebastian’s arm, freezing when Sebastian winced and groaned softly. He stared expectantly.

“How long will this take?”

The static didn’t change.

“Kidman?”

The radio only hissed at him.

The utter feeling of isolation made his chest heavy. Sebastian remained still although his breathing seemed to come more easily. Stefano glanced briefly at their surroundings, his nerves thrumming, then drew his knees up and rested his face in his arms. All he could do now was wait. Moving Sebastian could aggravate his wounds.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

Stefano buried his face deeper in his arms, ignoring that Theodore’s voice was coming from the radio. Or was it in his mind? It was still hard to tell.

He focused on feeling the black leather of his gloves between his fingers, the raw pain in his leg, tensing his muscles so the pain flared up and kept him tethered to reality, holding on with all he had. But with everything he had been through, he felt as though he did not have much left.

“I am a patient man, Stefano. But even I have my limits.”

The radio squealed again and violins began playing, the music interspersed with static.

“Stop it. It won’t work.”

And yet Stefano’s gloved hands raked through his hair, gripping tightly.

“What other answers do you seek? This was not how I wanted things to be but you can make things as they were. You know I can grant you that. Isn’t that what you want?”

“No.”

“Why is that? Do you desire suffering?”

“You’re a coward and the only power you have are your words. You prey on the weak and fearful because you yourself are weak and fearful.”

“Then why are you the one cowering?”

Stefano only shook his head, drawing his arms tight around his body.

“Look at you. At the both of you. Like lost children wandering in the mire.”

“...leave me alone.”

“As everyone else has?”

Stefano lifted his head to glower at the radio.

“She didn’t leave me. You took her.”

“And what of your colleagues. Those whom you believed equals. Whom you believed understood you. What of them after your...disfigurement?”

“...you’re trying to get into my head. It won’t work.”

“And didn’t it start long before them? Long before her?”

Stefano didn’t like where this was going. Slowly his arms slid up to cover his ears as though he could block him out. 

“My poor child, you know very well my voice isn’t coming from the radio. This is your mind, your heart speaking to you. This is the truth you refuse to see.”

“No...no, you’re trying to...”

His mind was traitorous, splintering after all the abuse and trauma surviving this nightmare had dealt him. The curtain of his psyche had been shredded and he felt exposed, vulnerable to his own darkness. 

The radio had been crackling quietly but now, within the silence as he waited for Sebastian to come to, there was voice of a woman he hadn’t heard in years.

“Why, Stefano? After all I’ve done for you...”

He stiffened, his eye slowly widening.

“He left because of you, you know.”

The woman’s tired voice was cold, toneless, just as it always had been.

“And now you leave me, too?”

He lifted his head, staring at the radio and hesitantly reaching for it.

“Mamma, I have to go. There is nothing here for me.”

Trembling fingers held the radio as he heard his own voice reply through the static. His voice was younger but just as cold as hers.

“You’re right, Stefano. There’s not. Go then.”

He flinched at the sound of crashing, recalled plates smashing onto the floor as his mother’s temper, rarely seen, erupted the last night he’d seen her alive.

“Mamma, stop this!”

“Do not call me that. Do not show your face to me again. You look just like him and I hate it.”

“...ah, finally the truth comes out.”

Her voice was suddenly rich with pain and anger, simmering and scalding him forever.

“Yes, I have always hated you. You took him from me.”

The sound of a door opened. He heard his slow measured walk out of his childhood home. He gripped the radio, knowing what would come next.

“Fine.”

The footsteps paused. 

“He was right to leave you”, Stefano had said quietly, his voice venomous, “No one in their right mind would stay with such a bitter, heartless—“

His eye shut at the sound of a loud slap.

“Get out. Bastard.”

The radio went silent. Stefano still held it, almost cradling it. He hadn’t heard her voice in years, not since leaving when he’d turned sixteen. When she had died he didn’t grieve her. She had never been there for him to begin with.

“Aren’t you a lovely thing?”

It was a woman. A chill broke through him at the voice somewhat familiar through the radio static.

“Stay with me”, an older man’s voice followed, “You’ll never need to worry about money for your schooling again.”

He nearly dropped the radio. The voices, both men and women, mingled together like a crowd at a reunion.

“...no”, Stefano said quietly, the radio held listless in his hand.

“My sweet child, where else do you have left to go? Don’t be ungrateful.”

“Don’t be so cruel, caro. Come here.”

“I’ll take care of you. All you need to do is take care of me, mio piccolo.”

The radio clattered to the ground and went silent. He didn’t care if he’d broken it. He moved away from it, his hands covering his face at the memory of all the kind, friendly smiles that covered vile, hungry teeth. They had preyed upon him, taking from him until they had their fill or until he himself had no use for them. 

He had never seen himself as a victim. He’d always known what he was doing. But still his skin crawled and he shivered, his eye cinched shut as he willed unwelcome images away.

“Stefano...”

A man’s voice sighed and another, a woman, immediately followed with a low moan. He heard his name screamed and cursed and sobbed in passionate throes from multiple different voices, their cries intermingled with obscene groans and heavy, rapid breathing. 

In spite of it all Stefano let out a low, bitter laugh.

“When will I see you again, mio caro?”

“Don’t leave me!”

“You fucking slut.”

“I love you.”

“Stefano, I miss you.”

“Don’t you still want me?”

“Fuck you! I never want to see you again!”

“I love you, Stefano.”

A myriad of lust and hate and pain streamed chaotically into the silence. All his anonymous, countless lovers made their radio debut. Some voices he didn’t remember, some he did. None of them mattered.

The radio fell silent once more. He waited with a sort of morbid anticipation until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Well?”, he snapped, glaring at the radio and kneeling up, “Is that all? We’re not going to revisit the loss of my eye? Not even that hell of a hospital? Finding out I was to live the rest of my life disfigured? No?”

He let out a laugh and shook his head, “Ah, wait, what of all the critics and so-called experts who mocked my work? What of the low points where it seemed the whole world thought me repulsive, a monster? Aren’t we going to address that?”

Stefano tried to stand by stumbled and hit the ground with his knee hard. He barely noticed the pain.

“And, come on. You’re not calling upon her?”

The quiet crackling was somehow worse than anything else. 

“Aren’t you forgetting someone? Aren’t you forgetting the most spectacular of my failures? What sort of incomplete punishment is this?”

He snatched the radio off the floor, gripping it tightly.

“Aren’t you going to show me how terrible I am that I destroyed her? Aren’t I to cry and moan at the epiphany that I could have saved her? That she didn’t have to die? That if only I noticed what was happening to the one person I ever cared for instead of delving so deep into my work I...could have...I...”

He sank to the floor onto his knees, his head bowed. The radio slid from his slackened grip.

“No...I suppose not”, he said quietly, a bitter smile twisting his lips, “As if I haven’t thought of that every day since.”

He had been so unprepared for the effects of his mind laid so bare, so vulnerable. All his demons were before him now.

They all came out to ask him: what was the point?

What was the fucking point of going on?

Why suffer any longer when he could finally be free from all this?

His breathing had become harsh. He was not needed. No one would miss him out there. He could live on in the fantasy Theodore could provide ignorant to the wounds he’d sustained from merely existing.

There was nothing left for him outside this world. There never had been. He felt the resolve he’d had in the theatre against Theodore’s manipulation begin to crumble. 

“What is the point? Dio mio, what is the—“

He jumped as something touched his leg, then looked down to see Sebastian’s hand reaching for him, his fingers brushing against him.

“Stefano?”

Stefano crawled closer to Sebastian’s side and looked down at him. He was prepared for anger, for pain, for hate and at this point Stefano was ready for it like an old friend. 

Sebastian’s eyes were barely open but they blinked and tried to focus on him. Once more Stefano was caught off-guard at their dark honey color and then the way Sebastian breathed his name again made the dark thoughts ebb away momentarily.

“You...you didn’t have to...but you came back for me.”

Stefano’s brow furrowed as Sebastian’s slurred words turned in his mind.

“I stabbed you”, Stefano suddenly said bluntly.

Amazingly Sebastian laughed weakly and softly and now it was obvious the man was delirious. Still, Stefano felt his breath hitch at the foreign expression of gratitude aimed at him.

“When I...when I turned into...made it back ‘cuz of you. If you didn’t...I’d be one of those things...be lost like Myra.”

Sebastian’s hand reached and found Stefano’s arm, his touch warm and Stefano stiffened at the comfort.

“Without you...I wouldn’t’ve found my way back without you.”

Sebastian’s eyes closed again and his hand slowly slid from Stefano’s arm. Stefano caught it before it could hit the floor and arranged it over Sebastian’s chest. Stefano blinked and shook his head as though that would rid him of his confusion. Had Sebastian been talking in some sort of pain-induced dream? What the hell was in that supposed healing serum anyway?

A sudden loud crack broke the spell of Stefano’s bewilderment. He watched transfixed as a seam split the ceiling in half, the ground, somehow the very air shaking. If this was an illusion it was a very impressive one.

“—-fano? Stefano, can you hear m—damn it!—-boost the signal—“

The radio came to life once more. After a moment’s hesitation he picked it up, doubt still roaming through him. 

“Kidman? Is that you?”

“You have to get—-of there! That part of Union—-stability is breaking—guide you to a safe place.”

Stefano glanced back at Sebastian who remained still and silent.

“—-don’t leave now you could both—-trapped and I—be able to get you out. You have to move!”

Dust rained down upon them. Bits of plaster showered on them. Sebastian groaned and squinted against the pieces that fell upon his face but did nothing more. 

“Sebastian isn’t awake. He’s...he’s still—“

The ground shook so hard Stefano nearly fell. Kidman’s voice suddenly broke through clear, “Okay, I can’t maintain this strong of a connection for long. You have to get yourself and Sebastian out of there. Union is undergoing a major shift.”

Stefano looked helplessly from the radio to Sebastian.

“You have to move! Now!”

Hooking the radio into his belt, Stefano crouched down next to Sebastian, shaking him.

“Wake up! Get up!”

Sebastian merely frowned and muttered something. The adrenaline spiked as a loud, echoing groan signaled some sort of supporting structure of the theatre was starting to give. Without a second thought, Stefano raised his hand and stuck Sebastian hard across the face with a ringing smack.

“Ah! Fuck!”

Sebastian opened his eyes and for a moment confusion and pain clouded them, then the state Stefano was in and the world disintegrating around them woke him up.

“What’s...where are—“

He let out a pained yelp as Stefano grabbed his arms and pulled him up. Sebastian’s legs felt like jelly and he buckled, nearly pulling Stefano down with him.

“Wh-what the fuck—?!”

“No time! We need to go!”, Stefano yelled over the sounds of destruction, slinging Sebastian’s arm over his shoulder.

Sebastian was able to stand now but just barely, his extensive wounds still healing. They staggered through the collapsing theatre and towards the exit. Stefano pulled the radio free and held it to his lips as the ground swayed beneath him.

“Where do we go?”, Stefano yelled into the radio.

The doors leading outside flew open from the force of the ground shifting. Stefano and Sebastian had twin expressions of horrified awe when they finally stumbled out into Union’s chaotic streets.

It had become much worse. Houses and buildings floated in the sky along with great chunks of road. Chasms opened randomly with no bottom in plain sight swallowing homes and trees and a few unlucky Union citizens. 

Sebastian was obviously still in pain, holding onto his left side and gritting his teeth even as he struggled to hold himself up. Several times Stefano stumbled, impatiently waiting for Kidman’s halting instructions though he could barely blame her as she had to keep up with world reassembling itself around them.

His leg was bleeding again. He could feel the hot blood run down his skin. His body screamed for him to rest but the ongoing chaos was a distraction from the pain and gave him the motivation to keep moving. 

But more so, Sebastian’s body pressed so securely against his, the way his fingers would sometimes curl against Stefano’s neck as he struggled to fight against his injuries, and the way his eyes would slide up to him trustingly gave him all the more reason to keep going.

“You’re almost—“

The radio squealed and went dead. The ground beneath their feet splintered and Stefano was thrown to the side violently, clouds of dust and debris shooting into the air. He turned mid-fall to see Sebastian’s startled eyes meet his before the ground met the side of Stefano’s head with enough force that his vision went black for a moment.

He came to with a wave of dizziness, all sound muted, then realized he was sliding feet first into one of the many pits that had opened. The roar of the cracking ground suddenly swelled to full volume.

Scrambling, he clawed at the loose gravel, his heels digging into the unstable ground as it reared upwards. Lunging, he caught the tip of the jagged broken road to pull himself up with when it suddenly broke apart in his hand.

For a moment he was floating, unfettered, then his stomach lurched as gravity kicked in. 

He expected pain. Or darkness. And as he braced himself for whatever he would be subjected to his wrist suddenly caught on something.

Or rather, Sebastian’s hands had caught his wrist, staring down at him through pain and shock.

After a brief moment of being completely stunned, Stefano grabbed Sebastian’s arm, his heels scraping against the vertical asphalt as he climbed up and felt solid though trembling ground beneath him.

They both collapsed, clinging to each other for stability. The radio, now held by Sebastian, screeched and Kidman came through practically screaming.

“—white metal door in front of you—to it now before it—!”

The entirety of Union lurched sickeningly. Before them stood a house with a garage, a red Mobius symbol sprayed onto its door.

“Come on!”, Sebastian yelled, struggling to his feet.

He pulled Stefano up and with a final burst of frenzied speed they sprinted for the house, dodging falling debris and being thrown from side to side as the entire world tore apart.

Suddenly everything went white and silent.

Stefano thought at first that he’d been struck in the head again. He couldn’t see anything. But then he heard Sebastian breathing unsteadily next to him. 

The white began to dissipate and he realized it was a cold, chilling mist. He saw his breath come out in wisps of vapor.

“Oh, no...”

He turned and saw Sebastian standing like a statue, his eyes wide with fear. 

The world had gone still, looking as though the shift had never happened. The house with the door was only yards away. 

A soft sigh followed by a woman’s gentle laugh broke the silence and Stefano heard Sebastian’s breath speed up unevenly.

“It’ll happen again”, Sebastian said, his voice subdued, “Myra. She’s gonna—“

“Look at me.”

Stefano stepped close to Sebastian who continued to dart his eyes nervously. Mist rose from his slackened mouth. Gently, Stefano took Sebastian’s face in his hands.

“Sebastian. I’m here. Look at me.”

Sebastian’s eyes suddenly snapped onto Stefano and he stared at him wide-eyed. Stefano smiled and nodded.

“Good. Very good. I will guide you. I want you to see me and nothing else.”

Nodding uncertainly, he followed as Stefano gently pulled, one hand on his shoulder and the other still cupping his cheek. Stefano tried his best to stand upright, not to limp, to assume the illusion of stability and strength although he’d never felt farther from either than ever before.

But he had to so Sebastian wouldn’t drift away. He had to make his presence real enough to keep him tethered.

“We’re almost there.”

In his periphery, Stefano could see the door getting closer. Another gentle sigh and Sebastian paused but Stefano steadied his head when it seemed he would turn away.

“No, no. Look at me.” 

Stefano turned so his back was to the door and moved closer to Sebastian as though they were going to dance, staring solemnly into Sebastian’s wide, honey brown eyes. He let out a silent sigh of relief as he felt the metal door bump against his back.

Gently he took Sebastian’s arm and brought it past his waist, putting his hand on the door knob. Sebastian followed the prompt and turned it and the door creaked open.

A sudden piercing wail broke the silence. Stefano’s eye widened as Myra materialized in a plume of white smoke. Sebastian began to turn towards her, his face pale with fear.

Stefano slipped an arm around Sebastian’s waist and his other around his neck. Embracing him tightly, Stefano pulled hard and they fell through the doorway. Sebastian was heavy on top of him, his entire body trembling. 

Looking past Sebastian’s shoulder again, Stefano saw Myra flying at them, rage etched on her plaster-white face. He hooked the door with his foot and slammed it closed with a hard kick as she closed the distance.

The scream of rage was muffled behind the door and Stefano let the back of his head hit the floor with a groan. They clung to each other like tired children, letting exhaustion finally take them out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote so many different scenarios from nightmare to cute to comical and settled on more mind-fuckery. I wanted it similar to Sebastian’s in-game experience where he comes across the TV sets and his conversation with Myra about Lily. I’ll be honest—this wasn’t very fun to write. At all. Btw Stefano is using a technique called grounding where you focus on your senses to sort of come down from things like panic attacks.


	9. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Injuries need healing, both physically and mentally. Supplies and time are scarce. As is sanity. In the immortal words of Union’s most tired, fed up inhabitant: “...shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV switches from Stefano to Seb but I’ve made it obvious when it does.

“Every prince is a fantasy. The witch is inside of me. Her poison will wash away the memory.”  
“Kill the Lights” by The Birthday Massacre 

 

 

“Sebastian?”

Groaning, Sebastian frowned and burrowed his face against the warmth beneath him.

Not yet. Five more minutes. Did he say that out loud? He didn’t care.

“Sebastian.”

There was an impatient edge to the voice. What time was it anyway? It felt like one of those mornings where the sky was still dark, maybe overcast, curtaining the sun with rain. One of those mornings where he’d rather die then drag himself out of bed.

“Mmmf”, he replied groggily.

“Sebastian!”

Immediately his head jerked up, the rude voice pulling him out of his stupor. His brain registered its owner.

“Kidman, what the fuck, it’s fucking too early for this shit...”, he grumbled, fumbling for his...

...his radio? Through a glare of disorientation he reluctantly opened his eyes. His head felt so heavy.

He was on the floor. He blinked, trying to remember why. Why didn’t he recognize the room? Eyeing a black-gloved hand stretched before him attached to a listless pale arm and feeling a warm body beneath him brought up the question of how the hell he’d managed to pass out on top of Joseph. 

Joseph wasn’t complaining. Probably passed out as well. Maybe this was one of those rare occasions where Sebastian managed to convince his uptight ass to join him for a drink or two or ten. 

Fucking light weight. 

Sebastian struggled to lift himself on his arms and swat at his partner to get up, readying his apologies and excuses like a well-rehearsed play and hoping he hadn’t done anything too “inappropriate” again. Though the way their were legs tangled he probably had. 

“Sebastian! Snap out of it!”

The command was useless because Sebastian was in the sudden process of doing just that as he rose up. A man lay beneath him who was not Joseph, his head tilted to one side and the shock of dark hair over his pale skin cutting his face in half. 

“Stefano?”

(“Look at me.”)

He recalled a pale blue eye staring at him, commanding his attention despite the terror icing through his veins.

“Myra”, Sebastian said absently.

Fully awake, he glanced up and around, bracing himself against the floor with Stefano’s face framed between his hands.

It was obvious they were in a safe house but one he doubted he’d seen before. There were the staples—coffee maker, crafting station with its tools, a few chairs at a small table, crates and shelves with hopefully useful supplies. Beyond was another connecting hallway.

He stole a look behind him at the door. Closed, it looked innocent enough. Not a trace that beyond it lay the terror Myra had become. What he had almost succumbed to himself. 

If Stefano hadn’t been there...

Speaking of which...

He noted with slight embarrassment that his own legs were still twined around Stefano’s and carefully moved off of him. Stefano’s arm suddenly lifted slightly, following his movement, then fell again to his side.

The radio crackled patiently. Sebastian picked it up and wet his lips, sitting on the floor.

“Kidman, I’m here.”

“I’m glad you’re safe.”

“Me, too.”

A low groan sounded, making Sebastian glance down. Stefano frowned and turned his head slightly before falling quiet.

“Stefano okay?”

Sebastian knelt upright gently touching Stefano’s shoulder.

“I don’t know. He’s alive.”

Sebastian’s hand brushed against Stefano’s jaw line resulting in a slight frown. He looked paler than usual, a fine sheen of sweat on his brow. His left eye was closed lightly but his right eye remained open and he realized there was a small closed lens exactly like that of a camera.

“Well, he’s asleep. And he’s breathing. I’m gonna let him sleep a little more.”

“Okay, good”, Kidman said, “Let him rest. I think he’s been through enough for now.”

Sebastian noted some cloth bunched up and tied tightly at his shoulder. He had fuzzy memories of Stefano yelling at him, pain bursting from his shoulder at an increasing pressure, then the relieving but slow spread of health serum. 

He pulled the bandage loose and a metal bar within it suddenly fell to the floor with a loud clang. He winced at the noise.

Stefano immediately moaned and muttered something, his head turning weakly. For a moment his eye opened and Sebastian was at his side.

“Hey”, Sebastian said gently, looking into Stefano’s face with some trepidation.

Stefano stared up at him unfocused, then his eye rolled back into his head and he breathed out shakily. Sebastian sighed. 

“Go ahead, Kidman. I’m just gonna check him over.”

Sebastian noted the shreds of what remained of Stefano’s shirt. Numerous cuts, bruises, and lacerations marked his pale skin with reds, blues, blacks, and purples underneath ripped cloth. He glanced at the crude bandage he’d undone, realizing it was made of Stefano’s shirt sleeves.

The obvious thing that caught his attention was a nasty looking, deep gash that ringed his calf. It was covered in clotted blood making it difficult to ascertain its severity.

“I’ve got some bad news.”

Sebastian scoffed quietly, briefly eyeing the radio, “So what else is new?”

“It’s about Myra.”

Sebastian froze at the name. He looked down at Stefano, wishing he was awake. He suddenly felt alone. 

“Okay?”, he said after pausing to examine a dried black substance on the sides of Stefano’s mouth and down his chin. It didn’t look like blood. He winced, not sure he wanted to know what it was or how it got there.

“Well, after hours of her off the radar we managed to pick up her signal but it was warped. It was mixed with another distortion we’d been tracking down.”

“A distortion?”, Sebastian said, wanting to keep his hands busy. He lightly pressed his fingers against Stefano’s neck, feeling a weak but steady pulse. Stefano’s brow creased slightly but that was it. His skin was a little too warm and damp with sweat.

“Yes. We’d been tracking it since Union began breaking apart. It seemed shortly after it would manifest one by one the signals of Union citizens around it would also warp, vitals destabilize and then stop, and yet they were still moving around.”

“So those things really are dead.”

“Well, maybe more accurate would be some altered form of life.”

“Kidman, their flesh is falling off their bones and when I stab them in the head they melt. In my book, that’s dead. At least I hope so.”

“Same here. Anyway, it was theorized this distortion was the source of that. Before STEM went dark we were getting reports of mass hallucinations. They described it as...as a ghost.”

“A ghost”, Sebastian repeated doubtfully.

“I know it sounds crazy. At first it was Union citizens reporting it but then our agents began seeing the same thing. Mainly it was described as a singing woman.”

It felt like ice had formed in the pit of his stomach. With a last look at Stefano, he took the radio and stood, moving towards the hallway.

“That thing...we’ve both seen it but she looks like Myra. She IS Myra.”

“Judging from both yours and Stefano’s experiences, I’d say you’re not far from the truth. And there’s more.”

Sebastian walked into the connecting room, a little surprised to see an old green sofa with a pull-out mattress. He’d have to get Stefano on there at some point. Lying on the floor probably wasn’t best for him. A small connecting room was a bathroom.

“We believe Myra is somehow connected to this distortion. They move in sync. And they have some sort of pull in the fabric of Union. They manifested while I was guiding you to the safe house and the majority of the shift in your area stopped and stabilized.”

The old mattress let out a creaking groan as Sebastian sank down on it.

“...so she was helping us.”

“It’s hard to say. They could have been serving their own purpose.”

“...but she’s still there, right? Just like I was?”

There was silence before Kidman replied hesitantly.

“It’s doubtful. Myra’s brain waves are the same as someone in a coma. But this distortion seems to keep her going. They sort of pop up at random but their signals are almost aligned, at times perfectly.”

“...what are you trying to say?”

“Sebastian, it’s going to be difficult to—“

Sebastian stood up, clutching the radio tightly, “Stop with that shit, Kidman. Just spit it out already.”

Kidman’s sigh crackled slightly.

“It seems she’s fused with this distortion. And it’s possible it’s permanent.”

“...how possible?”

“Most likely. I’m sorry.”

The air was suffocating. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, then shut his eyes tightly before managing words again.

“How can you be so sure?”

“I told you. Their signals are merging. It used to be they would work in unison but now they’ve become one distinct signal. Neither have been individual in a while now.”

Sebastian felt his body droop, one hand listlessly holding the radio, the other supporting his face as he sighed. 

“Shit.”

“It’s a huge loss, Sebastian. To me, too—“

Sebastian let out a short, humorless laugh, “You, too? You got to spend the last few years with her. And with Lily. And I was just left out like fucking trash.”

There was silence on the radio.

“Now I’ve lost her. I lost Myra. Fuck, it’s worse because I’m terrified of her. The mother of my child is now this horrible...god, what if Myra finds Lily before we do? Am I gonna lose Lily, too? I can’t let that happen but I can’t...I can’t fight her. I couldn’t.”

“Sebastian, I know this is hard. She was...she was my friend. I looked up to her. She was fierce and yet compassionate...”

Sebastian felt heat prickle behind his eyes and he pressed his fingers against his closed lids with a shaky sigh.

“I’m still trying to see if she can be saved. Look, I understand this isn’t something anyone could ever prepare for. But you can’t let it distract you from—“

“Yeah. Sure. My daughter is trapped in a computer-simulated hell and my wife is a ghost. No, that’s not distracting at all.”

He sighed, rubbing his face. He’d felt energized a few moments ago. Using the medical syringes was one thing but he’d never thought to take a nap, too focused on his mission. But now a heaviness on his shoulders weighed him down. He tried to shrug it off. Kidman was right. Now was not the time to grieve.

“So what now?”

“I’ll be honest—I’m not sure. Still no sign of Lily?”

Absently he shook his head before realizing Kidman couldn’t see him do so.

“No. But...Myra is still looking for her. If I’m able to follow her somehow...”

“That’s dangerous. You remember what happened when she influenced you.”

“Of course I do!”, he snapped before taking a deep breath, trying to calm himself, “I do. But like you said, if she’s so far gone in her drive to find Lily...if that’s the only thing she’s focused on...maybe we can use her to find her.”

Once more there was silence on the radio to the point that Sebastian was afraid he’d lost the connection again.

“Well, we’re running out of time. And options. I don’t know that Theodore is aware of Myra’s change. We’ll have to assume so. But now it’s possible that we can track her.”

“And she can lead us to Lily.”

“God, Sebastian, it’s risky though.”

“I didn’t agree to this thinking it was gonna be a walk in the park. Besides, I’ve got Stefano with me. He was able to keep me focused when she nearly got me again. Maybe he can do it again.”

Recalling Stefano’s voice and hands guiding him to safety gave him a strange but welcome sort of comfort. It had been a while since he could rely on anyone. Especially himself.

“I feel like no matter what I say you’re going to go through with this.”

Sebastian smiled faintly, “Did you expect anything less?”

A low cry suddenly came from the other room. 

“I think Stefano’s awake. I gotta go. I’ll keep you posted. As soon as we can we’ll need to start tracking her. Work on that.”

“Got it, boss. Be careful.”

Hooking the radio to its holster, he made his way back to see Stefano tossing and turning as if he were in a nightmare.

“Stefano”, Sebastian said urgently, kneeling by him again, “Can you hear me?”

Stefano opened his eye slightly, wincing in pain. He let out a soft, broken whine that contrasted his usually smooth voice.

“Hey, come on. It’s okay.”

His only reply was something garbled in what Sebastian assumed was Italian and then Stefano stiffened and groaned, his gloved fingers clawing at the wooden floor.

Sebastian looked around, eyeing the crates and shelves. He squeezed Stefano’s shoulder in reassurance and immediately went through them, hoping for a syringe. 

After a few moments and a few strangled groans from Stefano, Sebastian’s search produced probably the smallest syringe he’d ever come across. It almost looked used, the amount was so meager.

But it was better than nothing.

Returning to Stefano, he saw small patches of pink on his alarmingly pale cheeks. His breathing was now shallow and faster.

“Hold on. This is gonna help.”

He pulled up the remaining shreds of Stefano’s shirt sleeve and plunged the needle in his arm. Stefano cried out once and then gritted his teeth.

“Please...”, he suddenly gasped, “Please.”

Sebastian stared down at him helplessly, mentally urging the serum to work until Stefano began thrashing wildly, his fingers still scrabbling against the floor, his moans ragged.

“It’s alright”, Sebastian said, not quite believing his words, “You’re gonna be fine.”

With how much he was moving Stefano was in danger of hitting his head against the floor. Sebastian slipped his arms under Stefano’s shoulders and knees, easily lifting him up. Stefano went still although his chest was still heaving. He was burning up in Sebastian’s arms, his skin slick with sweat.

“Shit”, Sebastian muttered as he brought Stefano to the bed and gently laid him down.

At least his struggling had calmed down a bit. There was a bag tied tightly to his waist. Searching through it, Sebastian found a small but old first aid kit. He set it down on the bed, then left for the bathroom and came back with some damp but clean rags.

Stefano’s head turned back and forth restlessly enough that it tousled his hair and bared his face. It made Sebastian almost mad with helplessness. They had started out as strangers with a similar goal. But he’d never asked Stefano to risk his life for him. And now...

Sebastian went to work on the large wound on his leg. Cleaning it as gently as possible, wincing every time Stefano flinched at his touch, he was finally able to see how bad it was. The rags soon became red with blood.

The leg was shredded and raw, the uneven perimeter of skin an angry red. The wound was deep and went all the way around his calf. What was most concerning were the veins visible as a dark, almost black network under his skin.

The first aid kit had only basic items, gauze and packets of antibiotic ointment, but he patched up the wound as best as he could. Until he could find more supplies, it would have to do.

“...bastian.”

Sebastian looked up to see Stefano grimacing, fingers still gripping the mattress, but his eye was slightly opened, the blue visible through narrowed lids.

“Welcome back”, Sebastian said gently, sitting next to him.

“How...how does dying work here?”

Sebastian paused, not liking this conversation already. It was better when Stefano was unconscious or rambling incomprehensibly in Italian.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Please, I doubt I’ve breath to spare. I mean, is there a s-simulated afterlife? Do...do you think I’ll see Emily?”

“Shut up”, Sebastian immediately said, “I think you’re still delirious.”

Smiling briefly through the pain, Stefano laughed weakly, “You’re probably right. I’m dead...I’ve been dead and this is Hell.”

“Look, you believe what you want. Just stop talking and let the serum do its thing. Thinking like that’s not gonna help anybody.”

Sebastian’s gaze wandered to the bandaged wound. No, it wasn’t bleeding anymore but he could still make out the darkened veins beneath pale skin. If anything, the darkness had spread.

A deep gasping breath brought his attention back to Stefano’s face and Sebastian’s brow furrowed seeing the veins in his neck had adopted the same dark shade.

“You’ll be fine. Just...just rest.”

“O-oh? I’d considered running a marathon or maybe dancing.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes and got up, “Would you quit talking for one second? Didn’t you just say you didn’t have breath to spare?”

He left the room and found the coffee maker. His hands working automatically as he thought of his options.

Maybe the serum was too small an amount. Coffee alone probably wouldn’t cut it. 

The best option would be to scrounge outside for supplies. He’d have to leave Stefano alone though. And there was the risk of meeting Myra again. Even if Kidman could track her the random way she manifested made that unreliable.

He sighed, then brought a mug of coffee to the room. Stefano appeared to be concentrating hard, his body trembling with effort. 

Maybe his wounds were too much for him to fight. Maybe poison was working its way through his system. He recalled the image of Joseph, scattered sores and monstrous eyes, black veins trailing through his body. 

Maybe when Sebastian came back with supplies Stefano wouldn’t be himself anymore.

He shook his head, angry for thinking that. 

But it was still a possibility. And he still had to consider the consequences.

He brushed the thoughts away and sat down on the mattress, setting the mug down for a moment on a nearby table.

“Hey.”

Stefano opened his eye and drowsily looked at him, “Nnng?”

“Here, I’m going to lift you up so you can drink.”

“Good. I hope it’s something strong”, Stefano slurred, his head hanging back as Sebastian leaned him up.

Sebastian blew a little on the coffee before bringing it up to Stefano’s lips.

“Careful. It’s hot.”

Stefano winced at the heat of the liquid but managed to take a small sip, a few drops running down his chin. Sebastian set the mug down again, wiping the wetness away with the back of his hand. Stefano leaned back heavily in Sebastian’s arms before his head lifted up and his breath hitched. 

He looked up at Sebastian with a sort of confused expression, “Oh...”

Jerking out of Sebastian’s arms Stefano managed to hang his head down over the side of the bed and his entire body tightened as he retched. Sebastian grabbed his shoulder before he could slip off the bed, steadying him.

After he had finally quieted, slumping against the mattress, Sebastian pulled him back. A thick black substance stained Stefano’s mouth and chin that definitely wasn’t coffee.

Taking an unused rag, Sebastian began cleaning Stefano’s face, wiping his mouth and brow, skirting around his injured eye. It seemed to provide some comfort as Stefano leaned into his touch and sighed.

“That...that was rude of me.”

“I’m sure you didn’t do it on purpose”, Sebastian said before he sighed, “This is what we’re gonna do. You stay here. I’m going to go on a supply run.”

Stefano seemed to come to at his words, his eye widening and focusing with some difficulty on Sebastian, “No.”

“Yes”, Sebastian replied resolutely as he stood and turned to leave, “But you have to promise to hang on until I get back.”

“Don’t go.”

“Hopefully it won’t take too long but—“

“NO.”

Sebastian paused, unable to ignore the force in Stefano’s voice. 

He turned towards him, annoyance in his face, “If I don’t you might...look, you’re sick. You don’t know what you’re saying. I just need to find—“

Stefano struggled to sit up and managed to get to his elbows, glaring up at him.

“Don’t waste...your time...don’t...do this.”

It was obvious Stefano was giving his all just to talk. Sebastian started to feel a small but growing emptiness in his chest. 

“It’s...it’s pointless. Just promise me if I end up...if I come back changed—“

“That’s not gonna happen because I’m gonna fix this. You’re going to be fine—“

Stefano shook his head, his voice straining now, “No, promise me—“

“God, you’re fucking dramatic”, Sebastian said, turning away. It was as if he’d read his damn mind. Stefano’s words were making a maddening helplessness bubble up inside him but he fought it down.

A gloved hand shot out and gripped Sebastian’s wrist, strong for the moment but shaking. Sebastian couldn’t bring himself to look at him and just stared at the fingers curled around his wrist.

“That’s all I ask...just spare one bullet for me. That’s all.”

His grip slipped and his arm fell like dead weight on the mattress. But his eye stared feverishly bright at Sebastian.

Sebastian left the room, needing to think. Needing to breathe. He heard Stefano groan again and Sebastian paced faster away then sat heavily at the table. 

For obvious reasons he didn’t want Stefano to die. But he realized there was another, more selfish one.

It was the first time in such a long time that someone had been there for him. Someone he could depend on when he felt lost. He’d had no one since Joseph.

Stefano had managed to break the hold Myra had on him. And it was a strong bond, reinforced with guilt and grief and time and yet he’d been able to reach him and pull him free.

(“Is it the loneliness? Is that why you insist on dragging him down with you?”)

Sebastian’s face twisted with frustration at Theodore’s haunting words.

“Fuck!”, he suddenly yelled, kicking at the table leg, the whole thing screeching against the floor.

He got up again, not sure what to do with himself, then settled at the crafting table to make more supplies. 

Trying to shift his focus, he gathered the bits of metal he needed, spilling them from his pack. His fingers went to work and he focused hard. His thoughts gave him no peace. 

If it came down to it, he knew what he had to do. 

(“Let him go. Why make him suffer?”)

One shot to the head. Hopefully that was all it would take. He doubted he could pull the trigger more than once.

He’d want the same. The thought of wandering lost and damned terrified him. And the thought of Stefano as a mindless thing doing Theodore’s bidding made his stomach turn.

(“Has Stefano noticed what happens to those who orbit around you?”)

Sebastian’s jaw clenched, his hand shakily sweeping the small amount of shells he’d managed to make into his pack.

O’Neil. 

Torres.

Hoffman.

Myra. 

Joseph.

(“There is a reason people leave you, Sebastian.”)

He shut his eyes, feeling so tired. So worn down. He could feel the pain of Theodore’s words through his entire being.

He really didn’t want to add another name to that list. He exhaled shakily, attempting to at least control his breathing. 

(“You’re a broken record, Sebastian. Doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past forever.”)

“Shut the FUCK UP!”

The table quaked as he slammed his fists down on it, random items falling to the floor. Leaning heavily, he clutched at his hair and tried hard to calm himself down, feeling each breath scrape through his windpipe.

No. Stefano was not gonna be next on that list. Fuck that.

His mind made up, he began to load up his weapons and ammo, then something caught his eye.

A radio lay on the floor nearby. It must have fallen when he hit the table. He picked it up and turned it on, surprised that it was functional. Probably belonged to one of Mobius’ agents. One of a number of rare things that worked in his favor.

Cold sweat dripped down Stefano’s face, his body shaking uncontrollably. Heat was building up beneath his body on the mattress. And yet he was so cold. His head hurt. His chest hurt. His bones hurt. Existence hurt. Even if it was a simulation.

The sound of footsteps pounded through his head and he winced at each one.

“Here. Take this.”

Opening his eye, he saw a radio held in front of him. He merely stared at it. Impatiently, Sebastian placed it in his hand.

“What for?”

“I’m syncing it to mine. Don’t turn it off. I want to hear you the whole time I’m out.”

Stefano’s brow raised, “You do realize those things out there would hear me, too.”

“That’s my problem.”

“Sebastian. Listen to me.”

Sebastian turned to leave, “I’ll be back.”

“No one will miss me”, Stefano said suddenly, his voice shaking as he struggled through each word, “No one will know I’m gone.”

The words stung, making Sebastian’s chest tighten. He turned back, glaring, “I’ll know. I’ll fucking know.”

“And?”, Stefano continued, staring hard at the ceiling, “Say...say you find your Lily. Escape this place. Once you are out...you will block this place from your mind. Anyone would. M-myself included. You will try...try your damndest to forget. And simple as that...”

His eye shifted towards him and he winced as he inhaled, a little out of breath now.

“I’ll be nothing...just a...just a repressed shadow. And before long not even that. And who could blame you?”

Sebastian stared hard at him, then took a few steps so his shadow fell across Stefano’s passive face.

“God, you talk too much. And even then you left out the part where you make it out of here with me.”

Stefano let out a short laugh.

“With you? So...so you would take me away from here. And then what?”

“Well”, Sebastian said confidently, “We’d find a place for you. You could even stay with us. As long as you want or until you got back on your feet.”

“Mmm. Such a happy ending. You don’t even know me and yet you invite me to share a home with you and your Lily.”

“You haven’t left me even after everything you’ve had to take. You haven’t turned on me or tried to kill me—“

“I stabbed you.”

“No, that doesn’t count—“

“In the neck.”

“Alright! Jesus, alright, you didn’t intentionally try to kill me and afterwards you dragged my ass here even though you were hurt yourself. I think I know the important things about you.”

Running a hand through his hair in frustration, Sebastian took in a deep breath, “Look, right now’s not the time for this discussion. Every second we waste brings us farther from finding Lily AND Theodore AND lessens your chances at getting better.”

He leaned onto the mattress, his hands on either side of Stefano’s face. He was inches away, making Stefano’s eye widen at their sudden proximity. The worn mattress springs groaned under his weight.

“So shut up. Keep the radio on. I will be back for you.”

He remained still as Stefano smiled strangely, bringing a hand up and laying it lightly on the side of his face. Sebastian briefly closed his eyes at the feeling, unwittingly leaning into his gloved palm.

“So you say.”

It was as if Stefano really expected to be abandoned. Leaning his weight on his other hand, Sebastian took hold of the hand on his cheek and held it tightly.

“I do. I can promise you that.”

There was a finality in his words that not even Stefano could argue with but doubt still ruled him. 

“Hm. My hero”, he replied dryly.

Bringing Sebastian’s hand to his mouth, he lightly pressed his lips against his knuckles. Sebastian followed the movement with his gaze and the gesture held him steady. Gave him the push he needed.

“Then I’ll be here”, Stefano said, releasing Sebastian’s hand.

Sebastian nodded, starting to lift himself up, then instead suddenly bent low and gently pressed his lips briefly against Stefano’s forehead. He then pushed his temple against Stefano’s, almost nuzzling against him. Stefano’s breath hitched, staring past his shoulder.

“I owe you so much. You don’t even know”, Sebastian whispered low against his ear. “I’m not getting out of here without you. Work that into your head.”

With that, Sebastian stood and walked out of the room. Stefano heard the door open, then shut quietly.

Stefano was unsure if the serum worked at first. However, he noticed the less serious aches and pains were gone. The burning sting of the vines that had ripped at him had lessened. As did the terrible bruising he felt all over. Now it was just that pounding nausea that throbbed through his body. He was floating in a sort of dysphoria, well aware there was something spreading through him. Eating at him. Weakening him.

He recalled the black sludge that had dripped from the thorny vines of Emily’s monstrous form. He shut his eye, trying to expel the memory of the appendage that had shoved itself down his throat. He was sure that vile substance was the cause of his ailment.

He thought instead of Sebastian carrying him to the bed. Tenderly wiping away the drops of coffee that had slid down his chin in his sloppy attempt to drink. The soft and refreshing way he had cleaned his face. Staring down at him, a burning intensity in his honeyed eyes. The press of his lips against his forehead. The puffs of breath as he whispered against his feverish skin.

But then the improbability of escape interrupted his thoughts. He’d come to terms with that but he still felt the despair within. So he waited, holding on to the mattress as though that would keep him from slipping away.

Hope was poison. More deadly than whatever evil was thrumming through his veins. If hope could kill then Stefano had died so many times. This wouldn’t be any different. He was always ready for the inevitable.

Sebastian made sure his immediate path was clear before slipping out of the door. Looking around, he saw they were in a residential area. He kept to sneaking through bushes and sidling along fences, crouching behind cars. He could hear growls and shuffling in the distance. He crept quietly, wanting to avoid a fight. This had to be quick. 

“Stefano. You there?”

There was a rustling noise from the radio.

“...so far.”

The area he was in seemed void of monsters. Except those melted into the ground. As pieces of the town had been shifted around, he wondered if he had been here before. Overhead he could see pieces of land, intact buildings and houses floating like clouds.

He kept to a whisper, Stefano’s voice, as tired as it sounded, giving him the illusion that he wasn’t venturing out here alone.

“I never thanked you for patching me up.”

“...well, I was...was the one responsible. It was the least I could...do.”

Despite himself, Sebastian grinned.

“Still. Thank you. Anyway, you’re not the first or the last to stick a knife in me.”

He came across the first abandoned house with an open window. Slipping inside, his hand hovering over his knife, he methodically searched each room.

“So are you a paramedic or something?”

“...what exactly about me tells you that?”

Sebastian pocketed a few bullets found in a wardrobe, “You did a good job on my arm. Do you work in a hospital?”

“I accompanied the Italian Special Forces...in Afghanistan...I was their photographer. Documenting the...the action. Early 2000’s. Basic training in...in first aid. Combat...mainly defense...few other things.”

“Shit, that was a mouthful.”

“Well...you asked.”

“True. Take a breather.”

He heard Stefano move again, breathing slowly. He was about to give up and move on to the next house when he decided to search a bathroom. In one of the cabinets was a larger medical kit. Behind it was a full dose of healing serum in a syringe. Relief rose inside him.

“Okay, I’m on my way back”, he said quietly into the radio.

There was a strange pulsing of noise in the radio. He heard a voice faintly through Stefano’s light breaths.

“Hey, give me a second. I’ll be right back.”

Tuning the radio, it suddenly popped and Kidman’s voice came through.

“Sebastian? Where are you?”

The urgency in her hushed voice made him pause. He stepped behind the bathroom door, cupping his hand over the radio speaker.

“Outside the safe house. Why—“

“She’s there. She’s near your position. You have to get back. Now.”

His skin prickled with what he thought was fear until he saw his breath come out in a small puff of vapor. The chill made the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand. Stilling the panic inside him, he chanced a look through the crack in the door.

Mist clung to the floor, getting thicker as he watched. He could hear distant low singing.

Fuck, he mouthed. 

Holding the radio against his chest to muffle it, he looked through the bathroom window. A chain link fence lined with tall bushes looked to be his only chance. 

He tried lifting the latches of the window and swore silently. They were rusted shut.

He’d either have to get past her or break the glass. Already he could feel a strange pull, a need to go to her. 

He could feel fear slowly take him over, his breath coming out in thicker clouds of vapor. He peeked past the door again and saw white undulating fabric in the dark.

“Ssssebaaaaastiaaaaaaan.”

A choked sigh grabbed his heart and squeezed. Oh god, she sounded like she was right outside the door.

Pulling his arm back, he smashed his elbow through the glass in near panic.

High deranged laughter sounded behind him as he squeezed through the broken window, barely feeling the remnants of the glass cut through his sides and hands.

Grabbing the fence, he pulled himself out and scrambled over it, falling on his hands and knees. He looked over his shoulder and immediately regretted it.

Myra grinned down at him though it was more like a grimace, a challenge. The white waving cloth swirled slowly around her.

“Oh, fuck!” 

Stumbling to his feet, he raced in the direction of the safe house, not caring about the sounds of alerted monsters that were now making their way towards him.

“Fuck, oh fuck, fuck—“

“Sebastian?”

Stefano’s muffled voice momentarily grabbed his attention.

“She’s here. God, she’s here”, Sebastian said breathlessly, “She’s—“

Gentle singing came from behind him. Bitter cold reached his neck. His mind started to swim. 

“Sebastian...listen...to me...you promised.”

His mind snapped back at the sound of the words. In his sprint, he could only glance down at the radio, his breath coming out ragged.

“I’m here...waiting...waiting for you.” 

He nodded, his legs pumping faster as he focused on Stefano’s voice which was coming through clearly but weakened.

“I need you...here with me...come back. You promised me you’d come back.”

“I know, I know”, Sebastian said under his breath, “I’m almost there. Almost there.”

He could see the safe house. Just a few streets away. He picked up the pace, ignoring the way his breath felt like it was coming in through a straw, the squeezing of his throat, his lungs burning. 

“Almost there.”

“Make it back...you promised.”

Something brushed against the back of his neck. Cold fingers. His steps faltered and he stumbled, barely catching himself from falling.

“Sebaaaastiaaaan...”

He looked behind him. She was floating mere a yard or two away. He uttered a small moan, then turned to see the door to the safe house bang open.

Stefano was holding tight to the doorframe looking around wildly until he spotted Sebastian sprinting towards him.

An angry scream split the air, drilling into Sebastian’s head and he clenched his teeth, trying to fight the urge to fall to his knees and let the sound overtake him.

Stefano was beckoning to him, his face pale and his body depending on the door to hold him up.

Sebastian grabbed at his outstretched hand, their bodies connecting hard. Stefano clung to his shoulder and Sebastian turned to shut the door.

“Where...is...she...?”

He froze, the door wide open as Myra descended lightly on the walkway. 

“Our...Lily...she’s...gone...where...is...she...Sebaaaastiaaan?”

“Myra...I—“

He moved towards her, anguish in his face. She reached for him, delight in her smile. She was only a few steps away.

“Sebastian!”

He felt something tugging at his shoulders insistently, something important, but Lily was lost. He had to find her. They could be together again. He could fix it. Nothing would hold him back. Nothing—

Stefano was suddenly in front of him, his hands holding his face steady. His arms slipped so they were behind his neck. Sebastian shifted his gaze towards him, Myra’s outstretched fingers pausing for a moment.

“I’m here”, Stefano said softly before he pulled Sebastian’s head towards him, pushing his lips against Sebastian’s slackened mouth.

Sebastian’s eyes widened, the feeling of firm, warm lips melding against his shaking him out of his daze. His mouth responded to Stefano like instinct.

How long it had been? He was lost in it, pulled in, and he succumbed willingly. Stefano’s hands were on the nape of his neck, fingers tangled in his hair.

Behind Stefano, Myra looked just as stunned. Then rage overtook her and she threw her head back and screamed. Sebastian broke the kiss just in time to grab the door and slam it closed.

He stood gasping for breath, staring at the door as it shook from the force of Myra pounding on it, shrieking her displeasure.

Something dropped on the floor behind him. He saw Stefano kneeling, swaying for a moment before catching himself on his hands.

Sebastian fell to his knees before him. Looking up at him briefly, Stefano immediately turned his face away, breathless.

“I’m...I’m sorry...I’m sorry...I didn’t know what else to—“

He cut off his delirious apologies as Sebastian’s arms wrapped around him, squeezing him tightly. Hesitantly, Stefano’s hands slid up his shoulders. He could feel Sebastian shaking.

“I almost didn’t make it”, Stefano heard him say, his voice sounding so small, “I wanted to go to her. God, I wanted to so badly.”

“...but you didn’t...you’re alright.”

“No”, Sebastian said, pulling away and staring hard at the floor, “I’ll never be alright.”

Warped static suddenly burst from the floor where Sebastian had dropped the radio. 

“Sebaaaastiaaan...we can be a faaamily agaaaaain...come back to ussss—“

With a strangled cry, Sebastian grabbed the radio and flung it across the room, then fell to his hands and knees, his shoulders quaking. Stefano only stared down at him patiently.

“It’ll never be alright”, he gasped out, “I’ll never get rid of her. She’s inside me. I could feel her pulling at me. Even now. Oh, god...”

He felt a hand on his shoulder, rubbing softly. He looked up, trying stubbornly and failing to stop the tears from falling. Stefano’s gloved hand was on his cheek again, caressing his face.

“Come here.”

Sebastian followed Stefano’s gentle pull, then closed the distance and pressed his face against his neck. They fell back against the door but neither seemed to notice. Sebastian was cradled against him, knowing he was leaning too heavily on him. Stefano merely held onto him, pressing his face into his hair, murmuring something soft and reassuring.

Closing his eyes at the warmth of another body against him, at the way gloved hands rubbed soothingly against his back and ruffled through his hair, Sebastian succumbed to the brief feeling of peace, shutting away everything else.

“It’s alright.”

It wasn’t. It was so far from it. And it never would be. But right now, in this moment, in Stefano’s arms, he could pretend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you may have noticed I removed the “possible future” on the Sebastian Castellanos/Stefano Valentini tag.


	10. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Then let me have this”, Stefano said, his voice suddenly sounding breathless, “Because I don’t want to risk not getting another chance. Because something unexpected may come up once more and I’ll never get to have this again.”
> 
> Sometimes we need a moment for ourselves; a shameless moment of self-indulgence. Harmless, or so it may seem at the time, but whether it is or not is unimportant. Sometimes that moment can be shared and with the same destination in mind where the past and the future don’t have to matter. Where all that does matter is here and now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE NEW WARNINGS: Frottage, mutual masturbation, heavy kissing, implied past JoSeb.

“So take it in. Don’t hold your breath. The bottom’s all I found. We can’t get higher than we get on the long way down.”  
“Long Way Down” by Robert DeLong  
   
Stefano winced as Sebastian withdrew the syringe from his thigh. Not really knowing the mechanism behind the serum, Sebastian figured the closer it was to the injury the better.

“And...now?”, Stefano breathed out unsteadily.

Sebastian sat back, the redistribution of weight on the mattress making Stefano shift slightly, briefly turning his stomach.

“Now, we wait. It’s a full dose. I doubt it’ll take long.”

“If it even works”, Stefano muttered softly, staring at the darkened veins beneath the skin of his arms.

Sebastian either didn’t hear him or ignored him because he stood up. The clenching of his jaw made Stefano believe his words had been acknowledged though.

“We need to find you some clothes.”

Stefano opened his mouth to protest but then glanced down at himself and the shreds of his clothing.

“I suppose“, he managed to reply tiredly before closing his eye.

He wondered if the slightly intoxicating buzz coursing through him with each heart beat was the serum working. He felt like melting into the mattress despite it being filthy and discolored with god knows what and smelling like—

A touch on his arm made him open his eye to see Sebastian looking at him with some concern. Wearily, he raised his brow in question.

“How are you feeling?”

Stefano frowned slightly, “I don’t know yet. Maybe if you’d let me rest for more than a second—“

Sebastian gave him an apologetic look, “You’ve been out for about fifteen minutes.”

Stefano blinked at him, “What?”

He sat up a little bewildered, then became mystified by the relieved smile spreading on Sebastian’s face.

“Does my suffering amuse you?”

Sebastian only smiled a little wider, “I think the serum is working. You’re back to being an irritable ass. Plus you sat up so fast. And look.”

He took Stefano’s wrist and turned his arm over. No darkened veins. His leg revealed the same progress.

Stefano drew his attention to the bandage and gingerly lifted its edge. There were areas of dark bruising receding although the area was still tender. He sighed in relief then noticed Sebastian’s hand still on his arm and his gaze lingered on it.

Sebastian looked down where they were touching then released him and picked up a mug of coffee he’d apparently made, taking a long drink.

“You’re bleeding.”

Not bothering to lower the cup, Sebastian glanced down to where Stefano was pointing. His arms were cut up and his shirt had new rips in it ringed with blood.

“Nah. Nothing a little coffee won’t fix.”

Stefano wrinkled his nose, recalling the way the coffee had affected him. Sebastian seemed to know what he was thinking.

“I think whatever was making you sick reacted badly to it. I don’t know what’s in this but it’s got some sort of healing properties. Not much but enough for these scratches anyway.”

Stefano looked doubtfully at the “scratches.” They looked more like numerous lacerations.

“I suppose in this world that’s possible. A little silly if you ask me.”

“Hey, whatever works.”

Stefano noticed how close they were sitting. And how intensely Sebastian was staring at him. How when the light hit his eyes just right they were a golden—

He averted his gaze and lay back down, an arm thrown over his face to block the distracting view.

“Here. Found these for you.”

There was a light thump and Stefano looked down to see a pair of black cargo pants and a white collared shirt on the bed.

“Please tell me you didn’t take this off a corpse.”

Sebastian laughed gentle and low and Stefano couldn’t help enjoying the sound.

“No. Besides I think the clothes sort of melt with the bodies. And I doubt I’d be able to strip one of those things without it noticing.”

Gently sliding off the bed, Stefano tested standing. Earlier, when he had heard Sebastian panicking on the radio, he’d had to practically throw himself on the floor and drag his uncooperative body across the room. It had taken every ounce of strength in him to pull himself up using the door knob.

Now his leg just seemed a bit sore to stand on but definitely improved. He bounced a little on his feet, then turned to the clothes.

He paused at Sebastian solemnly staring at him.

“Do you mind?”, Stefano asked awkwardly with only a slight hint of irritation.

Sebastian only held his hands up in surrender and left the room still with a smile gracing his soft, tender lips that were so warm and willing and—

The door closed softly with a click making Stefano shake his head as the thoughts dissipated.

This couldn’t be. Of all the bad decisions he had made, this was definitely not the time OR place. Besides, Sebastian was only using him to find his daughter. Using him as a security blanket against this Myra like a child against the shadows of the night.

Wasn’t he?

Why else would he be so concerned for Stefano’s well-being?

He recalled he himself had used Sebastian to bring himself back from Theodore’s manipulation. It’s not as if he were blameless in the matter.

Sebastian had recovered from his traumatic experience outside the safe house abruptly. Stefano had almost regretted it when he’d pulled away. That regret was replaced with delirious gratitude when Sebastian had carried him despite his weak protests to the bed and set him down gently as though he were a sleeping child.

Even still, this was a mistake. Stefano was tired of mistakes. He didn’t want to make Sebastian another one.

He frowned grimly, deciding to distance himself from him. They were here on a mission and things had to remain somewhat professional.

Even if the man’s eyes were beautiful and expressive with a depth that blew apart coherent thought and—

God damn it.

He slipped his torn shirt over his head brusquely, not bothering with the buttons since quite a few of them were already gone. He examined his skin, pressing his hands lightly against his pale chest and stomach and noting the complete absence of wounds. There was a fair amount of bruising but even that seemed minimal.

If only Mobius spent as much effort creating miracle health serums as they did horrible Hellscapes.

Stepping out of his shoes, he eased his legs out of his shredded pants and stood in just his underwear and gloves, noting the fading bruises and lack of damage save for the bandage around his calf.

He was still covered in blood that lingered over the healing skin. He slipped off a glove, licked his finger, and rubbed at a patch of dried blood on his arm where a large scraped area of skin had been.

A nice soak in a tub sounded heavenly. Or a shower. He’d even settle for a bucket of water tipped over his head at this point. But even that seemed out of the question.

Hearing footsteps, he grabbed the cargo pants and quickly slipped them on in time for Sebastian to walk in.

“Are you almost done?”, he said a little impatiently.

“Don’t you knock or do you usually barge in unannounced?”, Stefano snapped at him, “I’m surprised you didn’t just kick down the door.”

He ignored that Sebastian’s gaze was lingering on him as he pulled up the zipper and clasped the buttons on the pants. It was a little loose but nothing his belt couldn’t fix.

Grabbing the shirt, he slipped it on and noted the damn thing was a few sizes too big. He was about to complain when Sebastian produced two more shirts.

“Found them in the other room.”

Stefano picked one up and sniffed it, making a face.

“Did washing machines disappear with the sanity in this place?”

Sebastian shrugged, “To be honest, it’ll probably get covered in gore anyway so you may as well enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Hm. You do have a point.”

He was removing the ill-fitting shirt when he realized Sebastian had closed the distance between them.

Stefano looked up at him a little nervously before gathering himself.

“Sebastian, about the—“

He didn’t finish because lips had silenced him in a chaste kiss.

“I can never thank you enough.”

Stefano’s eye was half-lidded from his body being unfairly overstimulated by a simple kiss when Sebastian pulled away, his lips still slightly pouted forward. His assailant looked down at him apologetically although there was a hint of a smirk that was not sorry at all.

“Sorry I cut you off. What were you saying?”

He had those marvelous eyes trained on him, staring at him earnestly like a damn puppy. Filled with so much hope and trust and naivety.

Maybe now was not the best time for the “let’s just be friends” talk.

Especially not after that kiss he stole, Stefano’s traitorous thoughts added. He huffed and took in a cleansing breath.

“I...about the...the health serum. We should probably find more”, he said witheringly, putting more attention to his clothes than necessary.

He sped his way through the buttons, tucking the shirt into the pants, then looped his belt in place. Looking around for his other glove, his heart sank a little when he saw it held out before him in Sebastian’s hand.

He was trapped.

He hesitantly reached for it and, as he anticipated, Sebastian took his hand in his own. It was large and warm and calloused, a bandage still wrapped around his palm, and made his own look almost delicate in comparison.

He watched both uncharacteristically nervous and mesmerized as Sebastian mimicked his earlier delirious gesture and brushed his—

(warm, full, moving perfectly in unison with his own)

—lips almost delicately against the back of his hand.

Stefano felt the heat rise in his face and spread through him as though being dipped into a warm bath. Sebastian’s eyes were locked onto him with the same intense contemplation as before. Cracks began to form in Stefano’s already weakened resolve.

“...damn it”, Stefano muttered under his breath, glaring up at his latest mistake.

Sebastian raised a brow but before he could open his mouth Stefano crushed their lips together with an impatient growl. Unprepared, Sebastian staggered back, his hands holding tightly to Stefano’s waist before the back of his legs hit the bed behind him.

He went down and Stefano went with him, his arms around his neck. The bed springs protested loudly but went ignored. Pushing Sebastian’s wrists into the bed, Stefano continued his assault on Sebastian’s mouth with an enthusiasm he rarely allowed himself.

But after all the pain endured by his body and the torture committed against his mind, he felt he deserved something nice for a change.

He bit down on Sebastian’s bottom lip and the man suddenly groaned, sliding his hands up Stefano’s hips and thighs, pulling him tightly against him.

With a dizzying lurch, Stefano was suddenly on his back with Sebastian above him, his lip red where Stefano’s teeth had just been.

They stared each other down silently as though sizing the other up.

Stefano glanced down where their bodies were pressed against each other, feeling a hardness against his own. He smiled up at Sebastian sweetly and suddenly thrust his hips up.

Though the sensation was intensely arousing he took it a lot better than Sebastian did. Immediately, Sebastian crumbled before him, his arms trembling and his eyes clenching tight.

“Fuck!”

After taking a moment to appreciate his reaction, Stefano used his legs to shove Sebastian to the side and pushed him onto his back before he sat atop him triumphantly.

“Hmm. Perhaps it’s been a while?”

Sebastian glared up at him through a smile, then knelt up and gripped Stefano’s arms tightly with determination.

“Stop fucking talking.”

He slipped an arm firmly around Stefano’s upper back, then took a generous amount of his dark hair in his hand and pulled so a nice pale throat was bared to him.

Stefano’s eye widened and his gasp came out before he could stop it because a tongue dragged up his throat followed by the scrape of teeth. He barely noticed his damaged eye was exposed.

A string of words that sounded both beautiful and filthy came out of Stefano’s mouth at the continuation of this maddening pattern of tongue and teeth on his neck and the ridge of his collarbone and then his chest although the collar of his shirt impeded the progress.

Impatiently, Sebastian pulled away and undid the buttons as fast as he could while restraining the urge to just rip the damn thing open. A soft laugh made him look up to see Stefano smiling down in amusement.

“Look at you. What a picture. So eager to please.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes and easily swung Stefano beneath him, enjoying the startled look on his flushed face.

“Alright, I guess I’ll have to shut you up myself”, he growled, his teeth nipping at Stefano’s ear and making the man squirm beneath him.

Stefano managed to laugh teasingly, “Lesser ones before you have tried and greater ones before you have failed.”

His laugh choked in his throat as Sebastian finally got his shirt open and circled his nipple with the tip of his tongue before sucking on it slow and hard and giving the other the same brutal treatment. Stefano’s fingers were suddenly tangled in Sebastian’s hair.

“Oh, Dio, fuck!”

Sebastian chuckled and the short puffs of breath against Stefano’s slicked and sensitive flesh were apparently devastating because he moaned out another rapid release of words.

Sebastian reached forward and clamped a hand over Stefano’s mouth, continuing his attack on exposed skin in peace. Sort of. But he rather enjoyed the way Stefano’s words and breath were muffled behind his hand. He felt fingers tighten against his wrist but instead of moving his hand away, Stefano held on tightly, groaning into his palm.

Sebastian glanced at him. His eye was cinched tight, a look of desperation on his face. Sebastian loved it and loved that he was the cause. Stefano moaning and twisting, lost in pleasure beneath him was intoxicating. Moving down, he kept up the teasing bites that made Stefano jerk and cry out against his hand, thoroughly enjoying the sounds.

Until he felt teeth bite into the skin between his thumb and index finger.

He growled a swear against Stefano’s skin and tried to pull his hand back. Stefano held tight with his fingers and his teeth for a moment. Sebastian then looked towards him threateningly just in time for Stefano to lock eyes with him, holding his hand to his chest with an innocent look.

“So sorry. Was that painful?”

Stefano did not look sorry in the least bit as he smoothed his lips over Sebastian’s thumb before taking it into his mouth.

Sebastian immediately adopted a sort of dumb expression, feeling Stefano’s tongue and the suction of his throat muscles. All the while he was held captive and helpless by the pale blue of his eye. Sebastian sat up slowly so he could look down at him, his legs straddling Stefano’s waist while the bastard went on sucking and moaning around his thumb like a goddamn pro.

“Fffuck...”, Sebastian breathed out.

Letting go with a soft pop, Stefano sat up using Sebastian’s shirt until he reached pleasure-slackened lips and hovered there. Their mouths barely touched as they breathed in one another, both of them on their knees.

Sebastian gasped at the sensation of warm fingers smoothing down his stomach and lingering at the lip of his pants, nimble fingers undoing the buttons. Stefano’s other hand, still gloved, slipped under the hem of his shirt. The feeling of leather grazing his nipple made his hips involuntarily thrust up and Stefano took this opportunity to slide his hand down the front of his pants.

Sebastian froze, watching the movement beneath cloth as fingers curled around him, smoothing up and around and finally freeing him from the frustrating confines of his pants. Stefano followed his gaze and then smirked.

“Well. That’s certainly one way to shut me up.”

He chuckled as Sebastian rolled his eyes again although he couldn’t hide the flush further heating his face.

Pushing him onto his back, Stefano gripped the hips of Sebastian’s pants and tugged hard just enough so his cock sprang up from the parted cloth.

Sebastian made a noise that wasn’t quite a moan. It sounded like a cut off sound of protest. Looking back up at Sebastian’s face, Stefano couldn’t help but notice the expression of unease and paused. Sebastian caught his hesitation and met his eye only briefly.

“We...I shouldn’t be doing this.”

Stefano slowly sat up, gazing down and brushing his knuckles lightly against hardening flesh, watching and somewhat impressed by the restraint Sebastian was struggling against.

“Because of Myra”, Stefano stated simply, glancing briefly at the wedding band on his finger.

“N-no”, Sebastian said, biting back a hiss as he felt gloved fingers gripping him firmly, “Well...maybe...I don’t know—“

“Hmm. It feels wrong to you”, Stefano said quietly, moving his hand to drag tortuously against the tensing muscles of Sebastian’s stomach.

“...maybe just not appropriate right now?”, he replied weakly.

Stefano sighed, then leaned forward, his hands on either side of Sebastian’s head, which was turned away from him. Sebastian’s eyes briefly flashed towards him once before staring off to the side.

“Then when would an ‘appropriate’ time be?”

It was hard to concentrate with Stefano staring down at him, with his body wanting the complete opposite of his mind.

“When...when it’s all over.”

“I see. And if we fail?”

Sebastian looked back at him, his eyes sharp with defiance despite being glazed in arousal, “That’s not in The Plan.”

Stefano smiled gently, “From what I have observed, there have been many unexpected changes to The Plan. Myself being one of them.”

He placed a silencing finger on Sebastian’s mouth before he could interrupt.

“But with those unexpected changes you’ve pushed forward. You adapt. No matter how difficult.”

He leaned down close, his lips brushing against Sebastian’s temple. Sebastian sighed beneath him and turned his head. He responded with a desperate moan as Stefano brought their lips together once more and too briefly for Sebastian’s liking.

“So how should this be any different?”, Stefano whispered against his mouth, interjecting his words with feathery kisses.

“Because...”, Sebastian murmured, his eyes now almost closed and his hands smoothing against Stefano’s sides, “Because this..”

Because this, this raw, physical intimacy, had become such a distant memory that it felt alien to him. Because pain and the empty burn of loneliness in his chest had become a staple in every day life even before he’d been sucked back into STEM.

Because Myra was lost to him forever. Because she had changed into a twisted version of herself. Because he’d never get to hold her again or feel her breathing steadily against him.

Because Joseph would never get sigh into a kiss or feel the slide of skin against skin again. Even though that was nothing Sebastian could control. Not anymore.

Because he didn’t deserve a break in his routine of self-torture.

But, god, he wanted it. Needed it.

“In my opinion, this is a wonderful addition to The Plan. And it may not even be a change. It may mean something or it may mean nothing”, Stefano continued, his mouth now moving along Sebastian’s neck, feeling the vibration under his lips as the man groaned at each worshipful taste, “And that is a decision for later. But it’s no different than the other changes. And it’s one you need.”

He gripped Sebastian by the chin, steadying him, forcing him to look at him, “I think you can afford to be selfish this one time.”

Thrusting slowly but gently against him, Stefano watched as with even the smallest movement Sebastian gasped and threw his head back against the bed.

“Just a little”, Stefano continued, “And I won’t lie to you when I say I could use this, too.”

Sebastian suddenly laughed softly, “I can tell.”

He groaned again at another irresistible drag of Stefano’s still-clothed hardness against his cock.

“Then let me have this”, Stefano said, his voice suddenly sounding breathless, “Because I don’t want to risk not getting another chance. Because something unexpected may come up once more and I’ll never get to have this again.”

At the silence he started dragging his fingers down Sebastian’s abdomen once more before his wrists were caught firmly and stopped.

He felt a small stab of rejection in his chest only very briefly because Sebastian was moving his hands away, leaning up and unbuttoning Stefano’s pants.

His eye flashed uncertainly at Sebastian’s look of concentration, then he gasped as his own clothes were pulled down just enough. Sebastian looked up at him solemnly before pulling him to him, his hand forcing Stefano down by his neck, and roughly captured his lips again, kissing him deeply. Stefano felt a hard pull on his pants and moaned into Sebastian’s mouth as his own swollen cock was freed.

“Alright”, Sebastian said against his lips.

At that, Stefano shamelessly thrust forward so they slid against each other, his movement hard for him to control. Stimulation possessed him, driving his actions.

The grip around him tightened deliciously and he looked down to see Sebastian holding them both firmly in his hand, his fingers stretching to accommodate their combined girth, stroking upwards and down again slowly, his head back and his eyes lightly closed.

Pushing forward into his hand, his own cock pressed against Sebastian’s, Stefano’s hips went into a slow, steady pace to climb that desperately needed peak of stimulation. To fall over it if even for a moment. For possibly the last time.

He could feel Sebastian thrusting against him, moving with him, hear him grunting and hissing. Stefano convulsively bit his bottom lip and moaned, heat building up within him, a fever that drove his thrusts deeper, the friction against sensitive flesh making the pleasure soar higher and higher until he was light-headed.

A pang of weakness sparked through Stefano and he fell forward, catching himself on his hands. His hair swung gently against Sebastian’s face as he moved, brushing against his closed eyes.

“I want to see you”, Stefano gasped suddenly, his words strained, “Let me see you.”

Dazed honey eyes opened and took in pale blue. Stefano breathed out in adoration, then his head suddenly went back as his pace became more frenzied, his lips parted and soft moans releasing in small, steady bursts. The sight of Stefano uninhibited hit Sebastian in his very core, the effect going straight towards the pressure building up between his legs.

“Fuck, fuck—ohh FUCK.”

Sebastian’s hips lifted off the bed as he came with growls and swears and the sudden slickness was too much as Stefano went still, seemingly every muscle in his body tensing at once. He cried out again and again, for once wordless, his hands gripping the mattress so tightly they shook.

He rode out the orgasm with sharp pumps of his hips, Sebastian’s grip never failing, feeling the pressure break and his limbs weaken. And then Sebastian was bringing him against his chest, saying something soft and slurred against his mouth, and then the mattress was under his back and Sebastian’s lips were molded against his once more.

Sebastian clung to him, hiding his face against his neck, his uneven breaths cooling Stefano’s heated skin. Stefano lifted his arms weakly, looping them loosely around Sebastian’s still heaving shoulders.

But instead of sliding into comfort, into the warm after-effects of pleasure, their eyes remained opened and staring off. Words were not needed. They merely held on to this one last selfish moment of peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINALLY CAVED AND DID THE SMUT THING. UGHHH THIS WAS NOT IN THE ORIGINAL PLAN. Even though it wasn’t too much. I was skirting around the idea and finally just did it. After all, they’ve been through so much. I figured some comfort was in order. Hope I did the StefSeb (or whatever it’s called...ValentAllos?) pairing some justice. Thanks for reading.
> 
> Also kudos to AngelicSociopath for sort of inspiring Seb’s sad attempts at shutting Stefano up based on a convo where Stefano’s inability to shut his fucking mouth came about.


	11. Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional warnings: Theodore being borderline creepy I guess? Stefano again goes through uninvited mouth insertions because I just like shoving things into his face apparently.

“Dig.

Bury me underneath

Everything that I am.

Rearranging.

Dig.

Bury me

Underneath

Everything that I was.

Slowly changing.”

“Dig” by Mudvayne

 

Chapter 11: Fight

 

Warmth seeped away, replaced by a biting chill. Slowly raising his head, Sebastian opened his eyes, finding himself alone and unable to recognize his surroundings. Everything was pristine white and nearly quiet. There was a disconcerting noise like the slow squelch of something fluid, soft but filling the silence like faraway static.

 

Something flickered in the corner of his eye. He tilted his face slightly towards the unknown thing, seeing a dark figure. Slowly he reached for his gun, then realized it was not there. The reassuring weight of metal in his gun holsters and his packs of sorely-needed supplies was again absent.

 

Fire suddenly swirled up around him. He glared at the bright red, shielding his face and staggering away from the heat.

 

A blue glow like a camera flash suddenly bloomed and seemed to swallow the flames. The fire dissolved into an azure smoke that rippled like heat waves. In its place, Stefano stood and ran gloved fingers down the flat of a knife in his hand, a smirk twisting his lips in arrogant disdain.

 

The unfamiliar hostility made Sebastian pause, his brows drawing together in confusion, “Stefano? What—“

 

“It seems every attempt you make is a success in failure”, Stefano cut him off, his tone amused, his eye admiring the light touching the blade in his hand before he rose his head haughtily and met Sebastian’s confused gaze, “So sad. So willing to latch onto anything that comes your way. Like a parasite.”

 

“What are you talking ab—“

 

“You’ve lost, Sebastian.”

 

The voice floated to him from behind, soft and grieving and unforgettable.

 

“Myra”, he said mournfully as he turned to face her.

 

She floated before him, the gentle waves of pale fabric ever present. But her eyes were the same light sky blue he’d fallen for and they gazed at him in despair.

 

“We’ve lost”, Myra said and the white muck began rising from the ground, enveloping her where she hovered like a vision.

 

“No—!”

 

“We’ve all lost, Seb.”

 

Sebastian’s heart stopped, his body going rigid at the voice. He froze, not wanting to turn around. Not wanting to see. He shut his eyes and moaned softly.

 

“But when you lose, those around you fall. It’s always the case, isn’t it?”

 

“Please...please not you, too.”

 

“How can they help but go down with you, Seb? They put all their trust in something broken. And when you give way you flounder and grasp and pull us all down with you.”

 

Trembling Sebastian turned to Joseph, a dull pain spearing him at seeing his old partner. Blood slowly spread from the bullet wound in Joseph’s chest. Dark veins were visible in his arms and neck, webbing the skin around his eyes.

 

“Joseph”, Sebastian said in desperation, “I’m so sorry. I’m so—“

 

White thick fluid bubbled up and pooled around Joseph’s feet, began trickling up his legs. Sebastian turned and saw Stefano already half-consumed by it and being pulled down, still smiling at him dangerously.

 

“You try to save those around you but you poison them instead”, Stefano said as the white muck began licking up his chest and face, “Those that give their heart to you are sacrificing it to a cruel deity of hunger and loneliness.”

 

Myra was the first to melt into the ground completely, her face hidden in her hands. Stefano’s pale blue eye closed lightly as the fluid took him. Sebastian threw himself at the ground but it had become solid.

 

“How could you forget me, Seb?”

 

His fist clenching against the now hard ground, Sebastian looked over his shoulder and saw the white sludge taking Joseph as well.

 

“Joseph, no!”

 

Sebastian stumbled to his feet and threw his arms around Joseph, holding tightly. His dead partner was solid but so cold against him.

 

“Did I mean so little to you?”, Joseph asked quietly, “That you could leave me behind so easily and look for something else to occupy you?”

 

“No, how could you fucking say that? You know that’s not true”, Sebastian said, his voice raw and rough, “I mourned you. I thought you were dead.”

 

The white liquid was encircling Joseph’s face, dripping into his glasses, obscuring him.

 

“I was so easily replaced with bottles and now with someone else, another body to keep you warm and satisfied, just as I replaced Myra”, Joseph continued before the white stuff covered his mouth.

 

“No, Joseph—!”

 

Joseph suddenly burst apart in a flood of white in Sebastian’s arms, seeping through his hands and down his legs into the floor.

 

“No...NO!”

 

Sebastian fell to his knees, slamming his fist into solid white ground until the blood from his knuckles marred it with red.

 

“Please...please...”

 

He bent low, his head touching the ground as he let out a low moan, his eyes clenched shut against the prickling burn threatening to spill out.

 

This couldn’t be real. It wasn’t real. It had to be Theodore. But this world had already shown him so many impossible things that he didn’t know what to believe anymore.

 

Strength was becoming an abstract concept, something he could barely grasp, but he had to hold on. Had to keep his sanity and be strong for—

 

“Daddy?”

 

His eyes snapped open. He could see small bare feet before him, pink pajamas on legs. Lily was looking towards where the others had sunk into the ground, her blue eyes wide and shining.

 

“Dad, is it gonna hurt?”

 

He looked up at Lily’s solemn face. He reached for her and she took a small step towards him.

 

“Nothing will ever hurt you again, sweet heart. I promise.”

 

She smiled at him and it felt like sunlight after a storm. She took a few more steps, reaching to him eagerly. He beckoned to her, his arms open.

 

She stumbled, her foot sinking into the floor. Terrified she looked up at him.

 

“NO!”

 

Sebastian scrambled towards her as she sank, her arms flailing desperately.

 

“DAD, HELP ME!”

 

He reached her, somehow able to stand on top of the ground cruelly swallowing his daughter.

 

He grabbed her under her arms and pulled but it was sucking her under. His hands couldn’t break through the ground despite Lily sinking in easily. Her little fingers gripped his arms so tightly it hurt.

 

“Dad...dad, don’t let me go”, Lily whimpered, her voice high and soft in fright.

 

“NO! No, please!”, Sebastian screamed frantically, falling to his knees before her disappearing form, “Not her!”

 

She stared up at him, her eyes pleading in a way her voice couldn’t as the ground swallowed her.

 

“Baby...baby, I’m so sorry“, he sobbed as she slipped through his fingers.

 

Her bright blue eyes met his before she sank completely and the ground reformed as though those he cared about, as if his entire world, hadn’t been pulled under.

 

Gasping and sobbing, pain and anger and despair radiated off of him like sun flares and he screamed. He felt like he was burning, his nails scraping against the ground.

 

“All is not lost.”

 

His eyes tightened shut at Theodore’s sympathetic words.

 

“You can save them. You can put aside pride and give them new life.”

 

Gasping, the hot tears freely flowing now, Sebastian tried to ignore the temptation to give him. His heart frenzied against his chest. He tried so hard to dispel the utter anguish at seeing those taken away from him.

 

“You know what you need to do, Sebastian.”

 

Wearily, Sebastian got to his feet and turned towards him. Theodore’s face was a mask of concern. The very sight of the monster thinking he could manipulate him with his damn hallucinations awoke a deep anger within Sebastian.

 

“New life”, he repeated, anger undisguised in his words, “Life on your terms. Life you can easily take from them.”

 

Theodore’s eyes closed and he bowed his head as though in exasperation.

 

“You’ll never win me over. And you won’t take her from me.”

 

If Sebastian heard the distortion in his voice he didn’t show it. He stalked towards Theodore, each breath painful as though filling his lungs with poison. Sebastian glared at him, rage building up like wildfire.

 

“YOU WILL NOT TAKE HER FROM ME!”

 

The fire grew, heating his face, his chest, and then his entire body was in flames. He could feel it licking out of his skin, eating him, evaporating his reason and his mind.

 

“I WON’T STOP NOW”, Sebastian raged through the pain of the flames, “NOT UNTIL I HAVE MY FINGERS BURIED IN YOUR GODDAMN THROAT.”

 

Sebastian grimaced and finally fell to his knees. He stared wordlessly at his arms and clothes and flesh burning away.

 

Theodore merely gave him a sympathetic look.

 

“This will be your undoing. You give in to rage, to distraction so easily. But you’re not lost, Sebastian. Not while I’m here.”

 

Sebastian’s skin was blistering, melting off his body. Fire was all he could see and he imagined his eyes sizzling in his skull.

 

“It is your own choice to suffer. Take pity on yourself, friend.”

 

Sebastian crumpled to the ground, his agonizing scream coming out like a wheeze, like a dry death rattle. His lungs were shriveling in his chest. It was excruciating and almost impossible to breathe the already meager air. The world turned white and then red and then black.

 

Sebastian burned and burned—

 

—-

 

“WILL YOU WAKE UP?!?!”

 

Sebastian sat straight up in bed to see Stefano staring at him with his single eye wide. Unsteadily Sebastian turned his head back and forth, the realism of the hallucinations still reverberating through him; from the pain of loss to the agony of the fire.

 

“What...what’s—“

 

A sudden unsettling groan rumbled from all around them. Stefano looked at him pointedly.

 

“That’s what”, he said irritably although the edge of panic was easily apparent in his voice.

 

“Shit”, Sebastian muttered as he got up, shaking off the dream and buttoning his shirt all while looking for his supplies. Stefano, already put back together, threw Sebastian’s pack onto the bed.

 

“I collected what I could but it would be wise to—“

 

The ground shook, nearly throwing them both off balance. They stumbled into the main room, Sebastian grabbing more supplies and stuffing them in his own and in another pack he then shoved at Stefano.

 

“Here. Better than that little purse you got.”

 

Stefano briefly lifted his lip in a scowl but said nothing, actually grateful for the larger size.

 

A tremor suddenly shook the floor, the wood splintering and snapping between them. Stefano made to grab hold of Sebastian but instead he was pushed away roughly. He immediately saw why. A burst of flame shot from the long crack in the floor until it reached the ceiling, blackening it. Stefano stepped back, shielding his face as the fury of the flames whipped at his hair and clothing.

 

At a break in the fire, Sebastian held out his hand and Stefano grabbed it. The door to the Safe House was already swinging, hanging onto the door frame with one hinge.

 

They both shot out of the door and had to stop briefly at the sight of the world of Union.

 

Flames and an angry red sky greeted them. The air was stifling and smelled of sulfur. Great cracks in the ground revealed glowing orange from the depths below. Union was destabilizing.

 

“Someone’s been busy”, Sebastian mused.

 

“This is neither the time nor place for the obvious”, Stefano snapped at him, his hair and clothes sticking uncomfortably to his skin, “What are we supposed to do now?”

 

“...you got a fire extinguisher?”

 

“Have you gone mad?”

 

Sebastian chuckled and pulled Stefano along, ignoring the incredulous look on his face.

 

“Probably. After everything we’ve seen, haven’t you?”

 

Stefano gave him a full scowl, “Point taken. I just don’t understand how lightly you can—“

 

Shaking his head and giving Stefano the most empty smile Stefano had ever seen, Sebastian replied, “You got a better way to deal with the utter insanity around us?”

 

Unable to come up with a reply, Stefano was silent as they continued to run, the world burning around them.

 

“He seems to be going for a finale of some sort”, Stefano mused finally, his breath slightly huffing as the heat weighed their lungs down, “All of this—“

 

“He’s losing it”, Sebastian replied and Stefano could see an actual grin on his face, “This whole mess is a good sign. He’s getting desperate.”

 

Sebastian was feeling inspired after the latest mind fuck Theodore had delivered. Because now he couldn’t wait to grind his boot heel on the bastard’s throat. He let out a dangerous chuckle that he was pretty sure Stefano heard.

 

Trying to retrace his steps and use the now disjointed landmarks were useless. Sebastian tried to look for anything familiar that wasn’t broken in half, floating, or on fire. He needed a somewhat stable place to strategize for what was looking like the beginning of the end.

 

He stopped short, Stefano nearly stumbling into him, “There!”

 

A mostly burned strip mall was before them with the shell of a smoking overturned truck. Beyond it lay a warehouse that appeared untouched. Stefano looked at the scene doubtfully but Sebastian was already sprinting ahead of him.

 

He began to run after Sebastian then saw something move near the end of the truck. Something big.

 

“Wait, Sebas—!”

 

“YOU WILL BURN.”

 

Sebastian barely stumbled out of the path of a long plume of bright fire. His back hit the asphalt and he scrambled back, eyes riveted and wide as a tall figure in smoldering black robes and a long, flesh-like mask looking as though fused to its face stepped out to meet them. The smell of sulfur and burning flesh stung Sebastian’s eyes and nose.

 

It wielded a long archaic flame thrower which was ready to spout another and potentially fatal stream of fire.

 

The fire blinded Sebastian as it flared up hot. He began to raise his arm at a pathetic attempt to protect himself.

 

The monster suddenly stumbled, his weapon unsteady. The plume of fire scorched the ground next to Sebastian but he instinctively rolled out of the way, then looked up to see Stefano hanging onto his knife which was buried deep in the center of the monster’s upper back.

 

The creature roared in rage, twisting back and forth as Stefano held on to the gas canister on its back tightly. Pulling the knife out with his free hand, he stabbed it again and again. It seemed he was only successfully angering the monster.

 

Quickly on his feet, Sebastian lifted his shot gun, watching as Stefano began to lose his grip.

 

“Get back! Now!”, Sebastian yelled, unable to get a clear shot of the creature’s head with Stefano so close to it and due to its flailing.

 

Stefano shut his eyes, then yanked out his knife and stumbled back. Before he could get out of range, the monster swung at him violently, catching him in the stomach with the nozzle of the flame thrower and sending him crashing to the ground, the breath gone from his lungs.

 

“YOU CAN’T ESCAPE US.”

 

Its head jerked back as Sebastian fired into it. Using the distraction of the monster getting shells in its face, Stefano ran as Sebastian motioned for him to get farther back.

 

The creature roared, seemingly unfazed by a face full shotgun shell. It swung its weapon.

 

Sebastian fired a shot into the gas canister attached to its back.

 

The explosion should have taken it out as far as Sebastian was concerned and he was both frustrated and perplexed as it remained standing. However, it stumbled, its fuel source now gone and itself weakened.

 

Sebastian was readying another shot when Stefano suddenly ran past him, grabbing his arm.

 

“Leave it be! Let’s just get to the safe house!”

 

Sebastian looked over his shoulder at the monster roaring its displeasure, then allowed Stefano to nearly drag him away.

 

They were a few feet from the safe house door with its MOBIUS logo when the door suddenly burst open. Both men barely had time to throw themselves onto the ground on either side of the door as fire barreled through and blew the door off its hinges.

 

Another of the same monsters stepped out wielding a giant flame thrower.

 

“YOU MUST BE CLEANSED IN THE FLAME!”

 

It pointed the flame thrower at Stefano and the lick of flame at the business end flared bright and hot. His eye widened.

 

Suddenly the creature dropped its weapon and staggered back, hitting the door and slumping down, convulsing. Flame erupted from its center and it screamed horribly.

 

Before either of them could think to react they heard a screech of pain from behind them; the other creature was suffering the same fate.

 

Turning to Sebastian in utter confusion, Stefano went rigid as he heard it—that terrible mind-splitting whine that sliced through his entire being. He shut his eye against it, hands pressing hard against his right temple as the noise seemed to prefer torturing him in that particular spot.

 

He heard an anguished cry and squeezed his eye open enough to see Sebastian gripping his head in his hands as well, reacting more violently and desperately.

 

Stefano knew he was in no shape to take on Sebastian’s horrific form. He also feared that delicious, irresistible urge for blood that had sent him to dizzying heights of euphoria. That need to destroy flesh in order to create beauty. He wasn’t sure what was more disturbing; the urge itself or the fact that he didn’t necessarily want to fight it. It was becoming like instinct. It was getting so hard to fend it off, to stop from free-falling.

 

It would be so easy. Just relent a little. Just open his mind slightly to the suggestion and he would be swallowed.

 

Another moan brought him back and he saw Sebastian staring at him through pain-tightened eyes.

 

“Stefano...”

 

His hand reached out, shaking. Stefano found himself reaching back and the thought of leaving Sebastian, possibly hurting him, made the fight inside him rise.

 

He reached, dragging himself towards Sebastian’s look of complete defeat and desperation. Their fingertips touched and then twined together.

 

“Hold on to me.”

 

For a moment their eyes met and it seemed for one hopeful moment they could win this fight.

 

A deafening roar suddenly drowned out the sound of the persistent whine and Stefano was immediately ripped away. He screamed soundlessly as the sound reverberated through him and his vision failed. He could feel his hands uselessly pressing against his ears even though the sound was inside him now, dragging him away from Sebastian, from Union, from coherent thought into god knows what.

 

It felt like a giant fist was curled around his stomach, pulling him. He was weightless, helpless, and he could only wait.

 

The ground was not merciful when he finally landed. His back slammed into the ground and he clenched his teeth against the cry the pain caused.

 

For a moment all was still. He didn’t want to see where he’d ended up. What new sadistic pleasures Theodore had gifted him.

 

Steeling himself, he finally opened his eye.

 

Torchlight met him in a dim stone hall, the fire bathing everything in an orange glow. He stood up unsteadily, listening in the darkness and only hearing the cracking of the torch flame, his own quiet breaths, and somewhere in the distance the steady drip of what he hoped was only water. Aside from that the silence was disconcertingly full.

 

Which is why the sudden roar and grind of a chainsaw nearly killed him on the spot.

 

Turning wildly, he heard a distorted giggle, two-voiced, feminine and high mingled with a disconcerting low growl. Chains and footsteps followed, steady, with the ear-splitting sound of saw-blade on stone. He could see something lumbering towards him in the dark, as well as sparks flying.

 

He looked around, trying to find a path or escape but at a hysterical burst of distorted laughter, the footsteps quickened and Stefano backed away in near panic.

 

A monster came lumbering into view, three female heads with flowing black hair, the bottom half of their faces covered in some sort of thick, metal muzzle. In the middle of their chest was a safe door, even in the dim light fluid was visibly leaking from it, the door itself shaking as though something were trying to pry itself out.

 

He recognized with some disbelief that this was a horrible combination of the already horrific creature he had summoned against Sebastian when he had been under Theodore’s influence and...something else.

 

However, most of Stefano’s attention went to a giant chainsaw replacing one of the monster’s hands, and a giant, cruel hammer held in the other.

 

“Oh, Dio”, Stefano muttered breathlessly before turning and running through the first stone archway he found.

 

The monster was pounding behind him although it was thankfully slower. He heard the grind of the saw and a sudden loud slam of the hammer into the wall, debris falling from the ceiling and the very foundation seeming to shake.

 

This world had no shortage of monstrosities. Stefano whipped his head back and forth trying to find the next opening. Another barred wall was looming before him. There were no other open archways in sight.

 

He skidded to a halt, well aware the monstrosity was gaining on him. Aware he had no weapons and he was out of breath. Despite it all, because there was nothing else he could do, he turned to face it.

 

His heart thudded to a stop for one paralyzing second as something grabbed him through the bars behind him. He tried to wrench away from his captor with a strangled shout.

 

“Stefano!”

 

Through the bars Sebastian was holding on to his sleeve. Stefano grabbed at the immobile iron and shook them uselessly.

 

“S-Sebastian”, Stefano stammered, his eye wide and desperate, “Wh-what do I—“

 

A howl of glee interrupted his pleas. Sebastian looked over Stefano’s shoulder at the oncoming monster and a sort of confused but grim recognition flashed in his face. He glanced up and around, then spotted a break in the bars near the ceiling.

 

“Climb.”

 

Stefano shook his head to try to focus and his eye followed where Sebastian was pointing. In his exhausted terror everything seemed so slow.

 

“Climb! Now!”

 

Sebastian shook him, snapping him back and, wasting no further time, Stefano forced himself past the trembling in his limbs, adrenaline pumping through him and aiding his speed as he grasped the bars and hauled himself up. Each howl of rage became louder and louder and in Stefano’s mind the monster was already breathing down his neck.

 

He reached the open area of the bars, the iron twisted and leaving a tight squeeze. Sebastian encouraged him on, yet his eyes were locked into the oncoming nightmare.

 

“Hurry—!”

 

The world shuddered as the hammer pounded against the barred wall and Stefano felt the vibration through his entire being, his fingers slipping before his grip failed and he felt the ground blast the air out of him again as his back slammed against the stone floor.

 

Three wide grins beamed down at him through iron face cages. Stefano scrambled away on his elbows, hitting his back against the stone wall. The roar of the chainsaw was loud in his ears. If he weren’t so terrified he’d cover them. He barely dodged the swing of the hammer, pulverizing the wall he’d been pinned against.

 

Whirring blades suddenly swung at him, he jerked back but it caught his shoulder and he cried out as he threw himself to the side. He could feel hot blood already trickling down his arm and back. The creature looked over him but only stood, and softly laughed as he pressed away from it on the wall. Horrified confusion numbed the pain in his shoulder as the safe fused in the middle of its chest creaked open slowly, fluid gushing sluggishly through the widening opening. Stefano could only stare at it in dumb fear.

 

The back of Stefano’s head slammed into the wall at the force of so many dripping tendrils forcing his head back.

 

He immediately went to clawing them off but they were so slick he could’ve barely gotten a hold of them even if he weren’t past the cusp of panic.

 

His teeth were gritted against them as they sealed over his face, choking as he inhaled involuntarily through his nose, pain spiking through his head as the viscous secretions filled his sinuses. He could feel the arms creeping over his head, grasping and cementing their hold.

 

There was suddenly a persistent prodding at his mouth, his lips, the arms wrapping around his chin and applying pressure to the hollows of his cheeks to force his jaw open. It was so much worse than the grotesque tendril the altered Emily had attacked him with.

 

He could feel himself being pulled forward now, could register this in the back of his mind, his hands moving from the invading tentacles to claw at the ground, heels digging in and yet sliding against the ground.

 

He was losing traction. Losing air. His jaw weakened and then stuttered open as he gasped desperately.

 

The invading mass lost no time and slithered into his mouth. So many that he couldn’t even try closing his mouth. His jaw ached, his body jerking as he gagged. He felt bile rise within him and what came up mixed with the nauseating mire of filling his mouth.

 

His head was pounding from lack of air. He could feel his grip slackening and his arms falling to his sides. The sick intrusions slid slowly past the back of his mouth, completely cutting off his oxygen. His reflex to swallow couldn’t even accommodate their bulk.

 

The tentacles around his head wrapped tighter and he could feel their unrelenting pull. His lungs were on fire, his legs weakly kicking.

 

Distantly he could feel the tendrils suddenly freeze then become agitated, squirming in on themselves like thick worms which only made them creak his jaw open past its limit.

 

If he could scream he would have, feeling the joint on the left side of his jaw holding it to his skull suddenly shift with a sharp pain spearing his head.

 

The sound he managed to make was muffled as his body finally began to feel distant.

 

He didn’t want to accept it. Death in this place? After everything he’d been through? After the truth of Emily’s murder? After Sebastian? But it was out of his hands now.

 

Stefano slumped over, barely feeling his eye roll back into his head.

 

Sebastian had climbed up the bars, squeezed himself through the narrow opening, and thrown himself at the monster—a gruesome combination ofthe nightmares from Beacon and from here.

 

He dodged a swing from the creature’s hammer before being able to reach Stefano. The monster stumbled drunkenly, laughing.

 

Stefano was limp and unhelpful as Sebastian tugged at his arms, wrapping his own arms around Stefano’s chest and trying to wrench his body away.

 

Stefano’s head was halfway in the safe.

 

All of Sebastian’s weapons were gone. Even the transmitter had been lost. He’d be left alone. Again.

 

All he had left was currently being eaten face first. He felt panic and rage swell up inside him.

 

“No...no”, Sebastian was unaware of pleading through his gritted teeth. His heels dug and slid against the stone floor, rising hysteria making him clumsy against the creature’s unrelenting grip.

 

The thing suddenly stood, Stefano’s body following it and the tips of his feet lightly dragging against the ground. Sebastian clawed for purchase on Stefano’s shoulders but lost his grip and fell, frustrated and hating how helpless he felt.

 

No. No he wouldn’t let Stefano be taken. The recalled flash of a blue eye closing as white covered it made Sebastian’s desperation rise. Made anger trickle and then flow through his despair.

 

Frantically he spotted amongst the debris a large chunk of stone wall. A crude weapon but at least it was something. Grabbing it, he threw himself against the bulk of the creature only to be caught in the stomach with the wide swing of its hammer.

 

“F-fuck!”

 

He crashed against the wall, choking and gasping for air. The monster began to turn away, high giggling floating through the air. Panic forced Sebastian back up and anger threw him forward as he sprinted back towards it, ducking another swing and leaping onto its oddly textured back—long black hair clinging to him, the skin slippery and cold. He slid until he was hanging dangerously on its side, one hand gripping the collar of Stefano’s shirt.

 

The monster paused, swinging back and forth to throw Sebastian off. One of Stefano’s hands twitched at the movement.

 

He was still alive. Resolve cemented itself.

 

Sebastian wrapped an arm around Stefano’s chest and sank his grip in hard, putting nearly his full weight on his hold as he gripped the rock in his free hand securely.

 

Hitting the squirming mass with the chunk of stone did little although he tentacles didn’t seem to like it, recoiling but therefore pulling Stefano further in.

 

With just a hint of hesitation, Sebastian took a deep breath and, using both arms to hold tight to Stefano’s shoulders, he sank his teeth into one of the thick tentacles wrapped around the back of Stefano’s head, ignoring the disgusting taste and texture of slime.

 

The tentacles made a noise, a moist, ear-splitting screech. The one in Sebastian’s teeth tightened in on itself, then withdrew. The fact that it could feel pain made bloodlust rise deliciously.

 

Mindlessly Sebastian clawed and bit and tried not to vomit as he did so. The tendrils were reacting violently, lashing out at his face but they were recoiling, releasing their deadly grip.

 

Losing himself in the feral act of nails and teeth, Sebastian didn’t stop even as the creature tried shuffling back, an angry demonic scream splitting the air.

 

With a last shredding bite and a powerful kick to the monster’s front, Stefano finally came loose in Sebastian’s arms with an accompanying gush of fluids. The safe door snapped shut, severing a number of tentacles that dropped wriggling onto the stone floor.

 

Sebastian stumbled back and dragged Stefano away towards the barred wall once more. At a wild swing of its hammer, the creature smashed the iron bars, angry that its prey had been taken from it. Its rage caused it to thrust the chainsaw forward towards Sebastian, who dodged and threw Stefano’s limp form onto the floor.

 

“Come on!”, Sebastian goaded furiously, a dangerous laugh bursting from him, “I’ve killed you—I’ve killed ALL of you before! I WILL FUCKING DO IT AGAIN!”

 

He jumped back at a swipe of the chainsaw, using the creature’s momentum against it and brutally shoving its arm so it stumbled back. His strength felt inexplicably savage, his reaction quick and accurate. He waited for the hammer to come his way, needing to time this right.

 

At another fierce swing of its arm, Sebastian threw a hard kick into the center of the safe. The monster, losing balance, toppled backwards, crashing into the stone walls.

 

The hammer dropped to the floor with a loud thud.

 

It was ridiculously heavy but Sebastian was running on pure fury and in that moment his body did not recognize weakness. He grabbed the hammer’s long handle, swung it with his entire body, slamming it into one of the monster’s legs as it lay on its back struggling like a grotesque turtle.

 

Stefano suddenly gasped for air from his spot on the floor, oxygen cruelly forcing into his raw throat. His jaw ached and he touched it gingerly, still trying to focus. Something triggered in his windpipe and he coughed violently, bringing up the bitter taste of slime and bile that ripped his throat up on its way out. He struggled to sit up, the world swimming into focus. Wearily he looked up at the sound of a terrible scream, holding his aching jaw. His eye widened at the sight before him.

 

Dark red and putrid fluids exploded from swollen flesh as the hammer smashed through. The monster howled in pain and anger and Sebastian once more swung the hammer, this time smashing it into the wrist of its chainsaw-wielding appendage.

 

Its rotted blood sprayed onto Sebastian but he barely seemed to register it, unwittingly moaning at the hot splash of fluids. He ground the hammer into the thing’s broken wrist, a snarl twisting his lips, and when the creature tried to pull back its arm was deformed, the weight of the chainsaw merely snapping its tendons and splintering bone.

 

“You couldn’t stop me then”, Sebastian growled at the monster’s flailing, “And you won’t stop me now.”

 

With a roar, Sebastian swung the hammer over his head, burying it into the safe. The door dented and he swung again, screaming with each impact until the safe was a mangle of metal and rotten flesh.

 

The thing kicked at him and Sebastian immediately broke its other leg. The feminine faces screeched at him angrily and the force of the hammer caved in one head, hair and gristle covering the hammer as he took out another head, forcing its cage into its flesh so it just barely resembled a human face. He silenced the last one by lifting the hammer up and slamming it down into its skull, the moist crack such a satisfying sound.

 

Standing before Stefano was a being of rage obliterating the monstrosity. There was no pity in Stefano for the monster but he could feel fear inside him as Sebastian appeared lost in the act of destruction. That same rage he’d seen before but Sebastian had been a monster himself. Stefano couldn’t look away at first.

 

And then the thin wisp of vapor that trailed from his own lips caught his eye and he shivered at a sudden chill.

 

Throughout it all Sebastian screamed, each swing punctuated with his rage and hate at this creature bent on stopping him. On Theodore’s sad attempts to take him.

 

That fucking coward wouldn’t even face him himself—

 

(SLAM)

 

—relying on his twisted manifestations because—

 

(SLAM)

 

—that’s all he could do. His—

 

(SLAM)

 

—only power here. Theodore was weak. And Sebastian—

 

(SLAM SLAM)

 

—was fucking sick—

 

(SLAM)

 

—and fucking tired—

 

(SLAMSLAMSLAM)

 

—of—

 

(S L A M)

 

—all—

 

(SLAM)

 

—this—

 

(SLAMSLAMSLAMSLAM)

 

—BULLSHIT.

 

With one last unwieldy swing and a strangled curse his fingers slipped off the hammer, sending it flying into the bars and denting then enough to create a wide gap.

 

Gasping, Sebastian glared down at the still twitching mass that had once been a nightmare, now nothing more than bloody pulp staining the floor.

 

“Fuck. You”, Sebastian rasped at it.

 

Heaving breathlessly, he wiped he gore from his face and turned to where he’d left Stefano.

 

Expecting him to still be out, Sebastian was surprised to see Stefano sitting up against the bars staring at him blankly.

 

“Stefano, are you—“

 

Confusion hit Sebastian as Stefano seemed to flinch, his eye widening as Sebastian approached him.

 

“What? What’s wrong?”

 

He felt cold as Stefano continued staring at him as though he were one of Theodore’s monsters.

 

Stefano made as though to speak but then winced and held his jaw. Sebastian could see a thick, dark pinkish liquid, the slime from the safe’s tendrils mixed with blood, oozing down his chin. Stefano’s mouth was open and twitching and it seemed he couldn’t quite close his jaw.

 

Sebastian slowly approached and knelt down before Stefano, holding back the bitter confusion as Stefano’s eye widened and he leaned back away from him.

 

Sebastian sighed. I’m not gonna hurt you. You know that, don’t you?

 

He wanted to say those words. To reassure his partner in all this misery.

 

But instead he coughed, retching, black smoke piling out of his mouth.

 

“No...N-NO.”

 

A gentle sigh made him pause and turn although everything was telling him to run.

 

Myra smiled at him, her arms open as she approached ghostlike and looking even paler in the dimly lit halls.

 

Sebastian doubled over at the heat flaring within him, unable to look away as he straightened up, his backward steps unsteady until the iron bars stopped him. Stefano slowly got to his feet, the sharp ache of his jaw temporarily forgotten.

 

Myra sighed lightly, her arms reaching out to Sebastian again. Sebastian shook his head, his fingers trailing up to his eyes as he moaned. He cried out, the palms of his hands pressing into his eyes as he shook his head.

 

“Please, baby. Please, don’t. Oh god, it hurts. It hurts so much, please.”

 

Tilting her head, Myra laughed gently, reaching her fingers in a single stroke down as though lightly trailing down his cheek.

 

At her small movement Sebastian tossed his head with a sob as if struck before hanging it down in defeat.

 

“Yes. Yes, I get it. I understand.”

 

Stefano fought through that paralysis of fear, his hand reaching towards Sebastian and seizing his arm while keeping his eye on Myra. Myra only tilted her lips upwards with a soft laugh.

 

“Huhh guhh shunng...”

 

The name he desperately wanted to cry out came out like gibberish. An insistent tug on Sebastian’s arm did not do much either. Stefano tried to call to him, to seduce him away with a soft and stable voice but he could only groan and slur, his jaw still out of its socket.

 

“Myra...we...we’ll find her together...”

 

Smoke began pouring from Sebastian’s mouth as he spoke as though in a daze. Myra tilted her head towards Stefano and sighed again.

 

“No, Myra. You know I love you. I love you and Lily both.”

 

Grabbing onto Sebastian’s arm, Stefano pulled himself so he was against Sebastian’s chest, weakly shaking him. He buried his face in Sebastian’s shirt, moaning words, his fingers twisted in the dark fabric.

 

Sebastian paused and Stefano could feel him slowly slide his fingers up Stefano’s shoulders and stay there, comforting and still.

 

Hopeful, Stefano looked up to catch those honey-gold eyes.

 

Bloodshot and empty eyes returned Stefano’s now terrified gaze. The fingers on his shoulders began to squeeze, upsetting the lacerations left by the the chainsaw. Blood began to gather at the clotting wound and Stefano winced and could feel it begin soaking into his shirt again.

 

“Where is Lily? Where is my baby girl?”, Sebastian voice was empty.

 

His brow hardened and his fingers dug in even further. Stefano felt a blast of heat as a dark aura began rising from Sebastian, “Don’t lie to me. I’ll know if you’re lying.”

 

Sebastian suddenly looked up, his grip on Stefano faltering. Stefano froze as alabaster hands reached past him and caressed Sebastian’s face. Sebastian’s breath suddenly turned into a strangled moan as her fingers passed over his eyes. She drew closer and to Stefano it felt as though the bitter dead of winter was behind him while Hell burned in front of him.

 

Myra leaned her face towards Sebastian but smiled manically at Stefano as her cheek brushed against his, causing him to flinch with a distorted whimper.

 

Myra gently kissed Sebastian on his slackened lips.

 

There was sizzling and Sebastian sobbed haltingly as the remains of his eyes slid black and viscous down his face.

 

“No, no, it’s fine”, Sebastian said, struggling through the words and cracking a smile that was more a grimace, “It feels fine.”

 

Myra caressed his cheek as she drew back, making Stefano tense again as she brushed against him in her wake.

 

Sebastian released one fist from his hold on Stefano’s shoulder and wiped away the black fluid on his face with his hand, looking down as though he could see it. His black sockets suddenly seemed to focus on Stefano’s pale face.

 

“You can’t stop us. We’ll find Lily. Even if I have to rip through every single one of—“

 

Stefano suddenly gripped Sebastian by the arms and delivered a swift kick to his midsection. Taking advantage of Sebastian momentarily stunned, he pushed past him and ran to the twisted barred wall, to the gnarled iron reshaped into the possibility of escape by the hammer.

 

He was almost through when hands grabbed at him, catching his collar and ripping it as he tore free. He stumbled and looked back.

 

Sebastian had taken hold of the bars and was shaking them, screaming in rage as he felt around for the opening. Behind him, Myra stroked his hair, whispering to him gently. The words seemed to incense Sebastian because if he’d had eyes at the moment they’d be staring death and hate at Stefano’s pallid face. Stefano thought he could see the iron start to give.

 

“GIVE HER BACK!”, Sebastian raged as he gripped the iron and Stefano could see the smoke from his clenched fingers trickle, the metal beginning to glow a dull orange.

 

Turning, Stefano began to run aimlessly down the corridor, holding his damaged shoulder with one hand. There were no footsteps pounding behind him, no horrific roars of blind anger, and no girlish sighs and giggles.

 

But the corridors looked the same. No matter. He’d run until he could find a place to hide, just like before, when this whole nightmare first—

 

Hot pain like a bullet ripped through his head and Stefano screamed, buckling to his knees, his fingers pressing into the skin around his missing eye.

 

Trembling fingers explored the strange lens that had been left in his eye socket, an unwanted gift from Theodore. He could see a blue gleam reflected off his gloves.

 

“Oh, Dio. No no no”, he said softly although it came out as a panicked, warbled whisper.

 

A hand fell on his shoulder as though in comfort. He didn’t have to look to see who it was. He wanted to get up. He wanted to shove Theodore away. He wanted Sebastian, his Sebastian, at his side. He wanted to wake up in his Krimson City apartment, Emily’s death and STEM and everything a terrible terrible dream.

 

But he also wanted...

 

He felt his breathing hitch and a wave of euphoria hit him, leaving him gasping. Saliva gathered in the corner of his still stiff jaw and dribbled down his chin.

 

He also wanted to tear and rend and bend flesh to his will. To rip it apart and reveal its dripping red beauty and its visceral secrets. He groaned at the thought and his jaw clicked as he made the sound.

 

Theodore stood before him now and Stefano gazed up at him passively.

 

“Let me help you, friend.”

 

Brushing against Stefano’s cheek made Stefano’s mouth fall slightly open. Theodore reached in with the first two fingers of each hand, more of the mess drooling past Stefano’s lips at the gentle intrusion. Securing his fingers against Stefano’s back teeth and his thumb pressed firmly under Stefano’s chin, Theodore gave a sharp tug and twist.

 

The pain would have made Stefano cry out. But instead he sighed in relief, inhaling the scent of iron, of blood, of recently broken flesh like one would a blooming spring garden. Theodore withdrew his fingers and gently wiped the mix of saliva and blood and the slime of the tentacles from Stefano’s chin.

 

A blue glow began to rise from Stefano, like the pleasure cresting from a lover’s touch.

 

“This world is yours, Stefano”, an irresistible voice whispered smoothly in his ear, “But there are those who would covet what belongs to you, try to take it from you by force.”

 

A smile lit Stefano’s lips as a hand pressed the heavy handle of a knife into his hand and gently curled Stefano’s fingers over it.

 

“I’ve nothing against them”, Stefano replied to Theodore dismissively, “They merely serve as canvases for my work.”

 

Footsteps grew louder behind them. Stefano turned idly to see Sebastian stalking towards him in the distance.

 

“Ah, see how they come to me? They want it. They give themselves to me.”

 

The blood dripping down the man’s face was a veil of rubies, of crimson. And yet there was so much more inside him that would look so pretty as great webs of arterial spray over the walls.

 

“And I will not disappoint.”

 

Stefano toyed with the knife in his hands, his pace measured and slow as he went up to meet his new subject.

 

Behind Sebastian Myra floated, her head tilted as she stared down Theodore, who returned her gaze with a polite smile.

 

Sebastian saw the fury of flames and aimed his rage at the approaching figure with a roar before throwing himself in a full sprint.

 

Stefano grinned, bending slightly with his knife ready, the blue haze around him flaring up as his steps, light and quick, brought him closer to this eager canvas.

——-

Notes: Okay, you try pretending your jaw is dislocated while trying to say “Sebastian.” I realize this has been like three months in the making. Had a few family health emergencies and the introduction of Detroit: Become Human into my life for which, in my madness, I wrote shameless smut for. But I intend on finishing this, damn it.

Also, I’ve been gifted with beautiful fan art by the amazing [Noctambularis](http://noctambularis.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr! (THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!) 

Check it out [Here](http://noctambularis.tumblr.com/post/176396218021/smokefanart2) [and here](http://noctambularis.tumblr.com/post/176250393011/smokefanart1)!

And while you’re there check out their other work, especially the art for the amazing fic [Negative Space ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12991626/chapters/29704305)by detectivesebcas. You will NOT be disappointed. 


End file.
